Breakdown
by CaroH
Summary: Dean is in trouble and Sam has to find a way to save him.
1. Chapter 1

A friend recently introduced me to the wonderful world of Supernatural. Although I have written fan fiction before this is my first attempt at a Supernatural story. It is set early in Season 1. For reasons which will become clear later it must be before the events of "Skin". I hope you enjoy this first chapter.

**Breakdown**

**Chapter 1**

For the last hour the rain had been pounding on the roof of the car and bouncing up from the roadway. The wipers were fighting a losing battle and Dean's eyes were aching with the strain of peering through the windshield. Now, just to make his evening perfect, thunder was crashing overhead with deafening persistence.

He glanced to his right. "How the hell are you sleeping through this, Sammy?"

There was no answer and he had to admit that he was happy about that. In the month since Jess had been murdered, Sam hadn't slept for more than an hour at a time. Sam's head rested against the window and, every few minutes, a soft snore would reassure Dean that his brother was a long way from waking up.

He gripped the steering wheel tighter and concentrated on the road ahead. If this weather didn't ease up soon they'd have to try and find a place to spend the night. Stopping hadn't been part of their plan right now. They had a slender lead on the whereabouts of their father and were prepared to drive all night if necessary to reach their intended destination.

The thunder stopped. "About time," Dean muttered, pressing his foot harder on the gas pedal. As the car picked up speed again he was almost blinded by a flash of lightening. "Crap!" His foot hit the brake and Sam's head smacked against the window.

"What?" Sam looked over, bleary-eyed and confused.

"Sorry," Dean said. "Start looking for a motel. We're going to kill ourselves if we keep going."

"Where are we?"

"In the middle of nowhere."

"That's not helpful." Sam reached down to retrieve the map which had slipped off his knee.

"What can I say, Sammy? You're the one who's supposed to be navigating."

"Have you seen any signs recently?"

"Take a good look outside. I haven't even seen the road recently."

Sam pulled out his flashlight. "How long was I asleep?"

"A couple of hours."

"And how much over the speed limit were you driving?"

"God, Sam, you're worse than Dad." Dean couldn't believe he'd said that. He didn't need to look at his brother to know what expression he'd see. Although he wanted to find their father, for Sam it was an obsession.

"According to the map there should be a town up ahead. We can stop there until this weather eases off."

Dean cursed silently. The flat formal tone told him that Sam was closing back in on himself. Every time he thought he'd finally built a bridge between them, something would happen and they'd become like strangers again. This wasn't how he wanted it to be, but he was running out of ideas.

They drove in silence for another fifteen minutes. Dean was almost relieved to see a flickering neon sign and the lights from an adjoining gas station. He eased the Impala into the parking lot and killed the engine.

"Why don't you go and check us in while I get a few things out of the trunk?" he said.

Sam climbed out of the car, hunching his shoulders against the driving rain. He strode quickly toward the office leaving Dean alone in the car. Dean leaned back against the head rest and closed his eyes. Maybe he should have left Sam in peace. His brother could have gone to law school, married his girl and had a normal life. He laughed bitterly. When had the Winchester's ever had a normal life? Besides, he liked hunting with his brother and he was looking forward to the day when they could all be a family again. He pushed the niggling little feeling of guilt to the back of his mind where it belonged. In this business there was no time for regrets.

By the time Sam came out with their key, Dean had the essentials stashed in his backpack. Their father's book was safely hidden inside his leather jacket and he had a gun tucked into the back of his trousers. The motel room had seen better days, but at least it looked clean. Out of habit he checked every corner of the room before sitting on one of the beds to pull off his boots.

"The desk clerk told me that this kind of weather is unusual," Sam said as he stripped off his wet jacket. "He said this storm just blew up out of nothing this afternoon."

Dean took out the gun and put it on the nightstand. Then he pulled a knife out of the bag and hid it under the pillow. Satisfied, he settled back on the bed. "Just our rotten luck to be caught in the middle of it."

"Is it?" Sam was unpacking his laptop.

"What're you talking about?" Dean was tired and he wasn't in the mood for Sam's cryptic comments.

"Nothing. Get some sleep."

"What about you?"

"I'm not tired."

Dean didn't believe him, but his eyes were refusing to stay open. Hell, Sam wasn't a kid any more. It was up to him if he wanted to stay awake all night. "Sure," he mumbled before turning over to lie on his stomach. It took no effort at all to fall asleep.

SSSSS

It was daylight when Sam opened his eyes. He'd fallen asleep in a chair – again. As his neck and back muscles protested, he reminded himself that he had to stop doing that. He checked his watch and found that it was past seven o'clock. "Damn!" They should have been back on the road hours ago.

Dean wasn't in bed and there were no sounds coming from the bathroom. Sam hurried to the front door and pulled it open. The dark clouds from the previous night had disappeared. The pale blue sky held the promise of a bright sunny day. His mood began to improve. They only had another couple of hundred miles to cover. By tonight...He tried to rein in his excitement, reminding himself that they'd been close before and had lost the trail.

He slowly realized that he was looking at the spot where the car had been parked the night before. Only now it wasn't there. He was scrabbling in his pocket for his cell when he looked over at the gas station. Dean's distinctive car was parked at one of the pumps. Sam shook his head. He was getting far too paranoid. Like that ridiculous thought last night about the storm. He'd spent hours researching weather patterns, convinced that something unearthly had called up that storm just to slow them down. He was glad now that he hadn't said anything to Dean because he could just imagine his brother's laughter.

He headed for the shower. The hot water washed away the grime and he felt himself relax for the first time in days. When he was finished he wrapped a towel around his hips and went in search of clean clothes. It was only after he'd finished dressing that it struck him as odd that Dean hadn't returned. He stepped outside again and his heart thumped in his chest when he saw that the Impala hadn't moved. Before he had time to consider what that meant his phone rang. He looked at the number. It wasn't Dean so who was calling him.

"Yes?"

"Sam?"

"Dean? Where are you?"

There was an uncomfortable pause. "I've been arrested and I need a lawyer."

Tbc

Caroline

April 08


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks for all the great reviews & to those who have added this to their story alerts and favourites. I may have to increase the rating for violence and sexual situations as the story progresses.

**Breakdown**

**Chapter 2**

The police station wasn't exactly state of the art, but that didn't mean it wouldn't be a challenge to escape. The two burly cops watching his every move were cramping his style as well. They'd made him wait before allowing him to make a phone call and he'd spent the whole time worrying about Sam. He'd been through the indignity of a thorough search as well as having his finger prints and photograph taken. Finally, he'd been escorted to the phone which was fixed to the wall in the hallway. A locked door and the desk sergeant separated him from the freedom he very badly wanted to regain.

Dean edged a little further away from his guards and lowered his voice. "Are you listening to me, Sam?" he asked.

"You want me to get you a lawyer."

Sam still sounded shocked and Dean wasn't entirely sure that he'd made himself clear. "Time for you to put all that book learning to good use."

"Me?" There was a lengthy pause. "Where exactly are you?"

"They brought me to the main police station downtown. It's the big ugly building with bars on the window. Even you can't miss it." Dean's attempt at humor was forced and short lived. "You need to get here fast. Something's not right."

"That's an understatement."

"Listen to me. They ran my prints. I should have come up clean, and I didn't. They know who I am and there's a long list of phoney warrants out on me. I'm not going to be able to talk my way out of here, so we need a plan."

"Alright, Dean. Try to keep your mouth shut and I'll be there as soon as I can."

Dean felt slightly offended before grudgingly admitting to himself that his mouth did have a habit of getting him into trouble. "Wait a minute, Sam. You need to get the car. They're going to tow it in and it would be very bad if they were to look in the trunk."

"Great!"

The two police officers were getting restless. "Gotta go, dude. Dumb and Dumber are starting to look pissed. Be careful."

Dean hung up the phone and directed his best smile toward his guards. "My lawyer'll be here soon and then I'm going to sue your asses off for false imprisonment."

"Yeah, right." Officer Preston walked over and took firm hold of Dean's arm. "You can wait for him in the interrogation room."

"And here I was thinking you'd give me the penthouse suite," Dean said, suppressing a wince at the force of the officer's grip. He took his first good look at Preston. Clear signs of exhaustion were stamped on the man's face. "Looks like you had a heavy night, man."

Preston glowered at him. "Shut your mouth."

"Aren't you a little ray of sunshine," Dean said, before falling silent. He was in enough trouble without provoking a beating. But, what really held him back was the thought of the lecture he'd receive from his little brother.

The room he was taken to was no more than ten feet square, lit by harsh fluorescent lights. The only furniture was a metal table bolted to the floor and two uncomfortable chairs. There was no window and the room smelled strongly of stale sweat. The cops turned to leave.

"How about some breakfast, boys?" Dean sniped, unable to keep quiet any longer. "You don't want me to starve to death."

Preston looked over his shoulder. "Being hungry will soon be the least of your worries."

"Oh, please! Tell me you can do better than that."

"Wait for me outside," Preston instructed his colleague.

Dean took a couple of steps back. "You gonna add police brutality to the list?"

The police officer's lips turned up in an unpleasant smile. "We've got our orders. No one will touch you – yet."

A chill ran down Dean's spine at the predatory gleam in the cop's eyes. The door slammed shut, leaving him to worry about the significance of those words.

SSSSS

Sam's first emotion was anger. How could Dean have been so careless? This would probably cost them the chance to catch up with their father. He shuddered as a feeling of loneliness swept over him. He'd spent years without his family, missing them every single day. The compulsion to reunite them was slowly driving him crazy. He quickly dialled his father's number. "Come on, Dad. I need your help."

This time, instead of the call going to voicemail, he got a message telling him that the number was out of service. Wherever his father was, and whatever he was doing, he didn't want company.

"Fine," Sam snapped. "If that's the way you want it..." He squashed the nagging doubt which whispered that there could be another reason for John Winchester's disappearance.

It didn't take long to pack. The car was still at the gas station, but the cops could turn up at any minute. He checked that the spare set of keys were safe in his pocket. Now all he needed was a distraction. He rummaged in Dean's backpack until he found what he was looking for. Then, he pulled on a cap, borrowed his brother's sunglasses, grabbed the bags and hurried from the room.

When he reached the gas station he found the attendant engrossed in a conversation with a customer. The man looked up briefly before returning to his discussion. Sam caught a few words – enough to convince him that the man was recounting the tale of Dean's arrest.

The gas station also served as a small general store. There were a couple of coolers along the back wall containing milk, water and soda. Rows of shelves were haphazardly stacked with bread, potato chips and a variety of canned goods. Sam walked to the back of the store and pulled a distress flare out of the side pocket of the backpack. This particular model would only emit smoke, perfect for Sam's purposes. He activated it and laid it on the ground.

"Hey, man," he called. "Something's on fire back here."

Sam moved quickly toward the door as the smoke billowed up. The attendant, who was having a very bad day, turned pale.

"Get out!" the man yelled.

As Sam was leaving he saw the attendant rushing to the site of the 'fire' carrying an extinguisher. As other customers milled around in confusion Sam threw the bags into the Impala, slid into the driver's seat and started the engine. He shifted the gear stick into drive and pulled away, resisting the urge to floor the gas pedal. He kept to the speed limit on the main road and was no more than a mile from the gas station when a Police tow truck passed him going in the other direction. Time was running out. He had to get the car out of sight before the police realized it was missing.

SSSSS

The town of Branton was larger than Sam had expected. There was a sizable mall on the outskirts with an underground parking lot. This early in the day it was still quiet as Sam drove slowly through it, checking the position of the security cameras, stairways and exit ramps. The lessons that had been drilled into him by his father resurfaced without any effort.

"Be aware of your surroundings. Cover your tracks and always have an escape route," Sam murmured to himself. "I wish you were here, Dad."

Sam parked the car close to the exit ramp between two large SUVs. They probably belonged to a couple of soccer moms. He smiled to himself as he recalled Dean's last tirade when a woman driving a car load of kids had pulled out in front of him and nearly dented his beloved Impala. Sam got out and locked the doors. He kept his head down and his cap pulled low as he headed for the elevator. The stores would be opening soon and he had a lot to do.

His first stop was at a newsstand where he picked up a town map. He sat on a bench and studied it. The police station was easily identified and was only about half a mile from his present location. Next, he set off to find a public telephone and checked the phone book. As expected, the town had plenty of law firms. He jotted down the details of one of the larger ones.

The mall was slowly coming to life. A young woman hurried past, pushing a buggy and calling to a boy of about five or six to keep up with her. She looked tired and harassed. Sam watched them disappear into a drug store. He'd never known what it was like to have a mom. But, there had always been one constant in his life. He couldn't remember a time as a child when Dean hadn't been there, watching over him. He'd worshipped his big brother, even if he had been far too much of a brat to ever admit it. And, it had been a hard thing to have Dean turn on him when he announced that he was going to college.

Well, that was all in the past now and his priority was to get to his brother and find a way to free him. He found the most upmarket clothes store and fifteen minutes later was standing in front of a mirror staring at his reflection. Unlike Dean he had no objection to wearing a suit. This one was dark, expensive, and exactly what he needed.

SSSSS

The reception area of Carlson, Carlson & Cunningham was impressive. Large glass doors gave access to a spacious area with cream walls and a deep blue carpet. Two women sat behind a large desk and a handful of clients waited on the expensive leather sofas. A phone rang and the older woman flipped a switch before talking into her headset.

Sam took a deep breath, walked up to the desk and smiled at the attractive blonde receptionist. Her professional smile softened into something more natural as she looked at him.

"Welcome to Carlson, Carlson & Cunningham. My name is Monica. Can I help you?"

"You certainly can, Monica." Although not as nauseatingly fixated on women as his brother, Sam knew how to make use of his boyish charms. "My name is Sam Hooper and I'm looking for a law firm to represent the interests of my father's company. I was hoping to arrange an appointment with your senior partner to discuss the services we require."

Monica leaned forward, giving Sam a tantalizing glimpse of lightly tanned skin and the cleft between her breasts. "If you would like to wait for a minute I will find out if Mr. Carlson can see you now."

"That isn't necessary," Sam said hurriedly, returning his mind to the job. "I have some other business to take care of this morning. I'll take one of your firm's brochures and a business card and make an appointment for later in the week."

"Of course, Mr. Hooper. When would be convenient?" Monica pressed a couple of keys on her computer. "Mr. Carlson has an opening on Thursday at eleven or Friday at two."

"Friday will be fine."

"Can I take a contact telephone number?" Monica smiled suggestively.

Sam hesitated before giving her a false number. Hopefully she wouldn't try to contact him before he and Dean were long gone. She handed over a folder of information which contained the all important business card. Sam thanked her and left. There was a print shop back at the mall where he could produce some false business cards using the firm's logo. Then he'd be ready to bluff his way into the police station. He glanced at his watch. It was almost eleven and he could imagine what kind of mood Dean would be in by now. He quickened his pace.

SSSSS

"What took you so long?" Dean groused the minute Sam got through the door. "I've been stuck in this room for hours and they haven't even offered me a cup of coffee."

"Sorry." Sam wasn't in the mood for his brother's sniping, having had a very hard time getting past the desk sergeant. He pulled a pad of paper out of his briefcase. "You'd better tell me what happened."

Dean leaned across the desk, keeping his voice low. "I went to get gas, gave the guy my card and the next thing I know this off duty cop is holding a gun on me."

"You must have done something to make him suspicious."

Dean broke eye contact. "The card wouldn't work. I was reaching for my wallet to get another one and..."

"What were you carrying?" Sam asked sharply.

"Don't start on me, Sammy. You're not the one who's been locked up."

"Keep your voice down." Sam glanced toward the door. "I'm supposed to be your lawyer, remember? What was it Dean?"

"A gun."

"Great. Let me guess. The cop thought you were about to rob the joint."

"Yeah. I told him it was a mistake. He said he'd let me go if I could produce a permit for the gun. It was a bogus bust and I thought I'd be out of here in five minutes. There's no way they should have had my name and prints on record."

"The desk sergeant gave me a list of the warrants against you." Sam pulled several sheets of paper out of the briefcase. "There are six pages of them, Dean." He studied the first page. "Credit card fraud, breaking and entering...The list goes on and on. And, the thing is, I know that some of these are true."

"I know. What I don't get is where the warrants came from. There's no way that anyone could have put all those pieces together."

"You think this is some kind of set up?"

Dean gave him a long-suffering look. "I always said that you got the brains and I got the looks...and the brains."

"Okay, if you're so smart why don't you tell me your theory?"

"Simple. Someone – or something – wants me off the streets. And, when I find out who it is I'm going to make them very sorry they messed up my day."

"Do you think this has anything to do with Dad? Maybe whatever he's following doesn't want us there to help him."

Dean's face became completely blank which was a sure sign that he was hiding something. "We can worry about what we're up against once you get me out of here."

Sam cleared his throat uncomfortably. "That's just it, Dean. There's no legal way to get you released, and it won't be easy to break you out either."

"So what are you saying, dude?"

"I'm saying you'll have to stay here until I can figure something out."

Tbc

Caroline

May 08


	3. Chapter 3

**Breakdown**

**Chapter 3**

Dean had spent most of his life hiding his feelings and he was good at it. After watching Sam leave he sat back and waited. Only a few minutes had passed before the door opened and Officer Preston walked over to the table.

"Your attorney looks like he's straight out of law school."

"What do you want?" Dean could hardly admit that Sam hadn't made it as far as law school. Besides, something about the cop bothered him.

Preston flipped open the file he was carrying and sat down. "Why were you carrying a concealed weapon?"

Dean missed his Colt 1911 almost as much as he missed his car. "What concealed weapon?"

"Don't play games."

"Bite me," Dean invited with a smirk.

Preston leaned forward. "I know what you are."

Dean folded his arms and stared silently at his interrogator. He didn't like the way that statement sounded.

"I know all about you and your family," Preston continued. "I'll give Sam credit though. He was pretty convincing.

Dean's anxiety level sky-rocketed. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"It doesn't matter. Sam can't help you, and neither can your father. Once you're gone, Sam will be all alone. That must be hard for you to accept when you've spent your whole life looking out for him."

"Sam can take care of himself." That was true, but Dean didn't want his brother to be alone. They'd been apart for too long and he was just getting used to having his pesky little brother along for the ride again.

"I'm sure you'd like to believe that."

Dean slammed his right hand down on the table. "Why don't you stop threatening my family, deliver whatever message you have and then leave me alone?"

"You need to learn some patience, Dean. You can think about that in your cell and we'll pick this up tomorrow morning." Preston stood up and walked back to the door. "Make sure you get a good night's sleep."

Preston's laughter only increased Dean's anxiety.

SSSSS

A feather light touch on his back woke Dean. He rolled over and pulled the woman against him. God, she was hot – and insatiable. As her hands ranged all over his body he groaned, feeling himself growing hard again. He was vaguely bothered by the fact that he couldn't remember her name or how they'd met. Not that it would be the first time that'd happened.

He pushed her onto her back and buried himself deep inside her. With an urgency that was almost frightening, he sought his release, crying out as a powerful orgasm almost tore him apart. When he was drifting back to sleep it occurred to him that it wasn't like him to satisfy his needs without any thought for his partner. By then, however, he was too tired to care.

SSSSS

Sam waited in the interrogation room for Dean. When his brother was brought in he looked like he was sleepwalking. There were no smart-assed remarks as the cuffs were removed and he almost fell into the chair.

"Hey, man, are you alright?" Sam asked once they were alone. "You look like you haven't slept for a week."

Dean frowned and then a satisfied smirk settled on his face. "I had these dreams..." His voice trailed off and he looked confused.

"What dreams?" Sam asked, sharply.

"Don't remember." Dean straightened up with a visible effort. "You find anything out?"

Sam pushed away a growing feeling of unease. They had a lot to talk about and no guarantee that they'd be left alone for any significant period of time. "The arresting officer, Fred Sykes, has been on the force for over twenty years and he's been cited more than once for bravery. He's lived on his own since his wife died a couple of years ago, although he has a couple of grown kids who live nearby. As far as I can see he's just a regular guy." Sam pulled out the notes he'd made. "There was one thing that seemed odd, though. He lives at the opposite end of town from the gas station where you were arrested. There was no reason for him to be there at that time in the morning."

"You're reaching, Sam. For all we know he could have been visiting a lady friend he doesn't want anyone to know about. What else?"

"I couldn't find any evidence of unusual sightings or deaths. There have been no omens and not one good reason why we'd have paid this town any attention. So, I did some checking on the warrants. I recognized some of the towns, places we've passed through in the last month, like Jericho and Lost Creek. Most of the charges, though, date back to before dad disappeared."

Sam was hitting his stride now. He'd always loved books and research, although having a laptop and access to the internet made that aspect of the job easier. Dad's journal helped too, and he could now appreciate how much hard work had gone into compiling that seemingly random treasure trove of information.

He was about to embark on the next fascinating aspect of his research when he heard a strange sound. He stared at his brother. "Dean? Are you humming?"

The sound stopped and Dean hunched lower into his chair. "Might be." He gave a jaw cracking yawn.

"Am I boring you?" Sam asked in disbelief. "In case you've forgotten, you're wanted across a dozen states so it won't take long before the Feds find out you're here. Bail isn't an option and you've got an appointment in front of a judge tomorrow morning."

"I have faith in you, Sam." Dean's green eyes were dull and surrounded by dark shadows. "You found a way to get me out of here?"

Sam looked away. "I'm working on it."

Dean's eyes narrowed. "Don't lie to me, Sam. That innocent look might fool everyone else, but I know you too well."

"I'm sorry, Dean. I've been over the plans for this building inch by inch and there isn't a weak spot."

"What about underground?"

Sam shook his head. "Nothing that we can use. Our only chance will be when they move you to the county lockup after the hearing tomorrow. There's a twenty mile stretch of open country between here and the prison. I've done some checking and there're no other prisoners scheduled to be moved so it's likely there will only be the driver and one guard."

"These are people we're talking about. You can't just shoot them."

"I know and I'll find a way that won't involve anyone getting hurt." Sam saw Dean's eyelids beginning to droop. "You still with me, dude?"

"What? Yeah, sorry."

Dean's behaviour was starting to freak Sam out. "Has anything weird happened since yesterday?"

"No – don't think so. Why?"

"Come on, Dean. I need you to wake up and pay attention."

"Am awake."

Sam wasn't convinced, but he pressed ahead anyway. "I think you're right about this being a set up. All the warrants were issued in the last week, even though some of the charges date back six months or more. I checked out all the cops who filed the charges and the judges who issued the warrants. All are men who are either single, divorced or have lost their wives. I haven't worked out what the connection is yet, but it's there somewhere. The other thing is that there's no mention of dad, but you must have been traveling together. And, all the warrants give your real name and they've even got your date of birth right. You need to stay on your guard until after the hearing tomorrow."

"Always do, Sammy." Dean's eyes became unfocussed. "Think I need to lie down."

"Dean!" Sam shouted.

"What's your problem?"

Sam's mouth dropped open, although he had enough sense to lower his voice when he did start to speak. "I was awake most of the night trying to find a way to break you out of here. I'm impersonating an officer of the court, which would get me in serious trouble if I was caught. And, dad is still missing. So I need you to get a grip."

"Why are you being such a jerk?"

"What's gotten into you, Dean? If I didn't know better I'd say you were coming down from a few too many happy pills."

An unpalatable thought occurred to Sam. He reached into his pocket and slipped out a small flask, holding it out of sight as he unscrewed the top. Dean's attention was still wandering as Sam splashed Holy water in his face. He got a reaction – just not the reaction he'd been expecting.

Dean's eyes snapped open. "Sam? When did you get here?"

"About twenty minutes ago. We've been talking. Don't you remember?"

"I thought I was dreaming." Dean rubbed his eyes. "What did you just throw at me?"

"Holy water. You were acting so weird I thought you might be possessed."

"I'd like to see any demon try to possess me. So, when're you getting me out of here? And, how's my baby?"

"The car's fine and we've already talked about the problem of breaking you out."

"We did?"

Sam looked at his brother in concern. "Tell me everything that happened after I left yesterday."

"Nothing happened. They locked me up and I gotta tell you, Sam, the food in this place is worse than the crap we usually eat."

"You said you had a dream."

Dean shrugged. "I might have."

Sam knew the power of dreams and would have liked to pursue the issue, but it was clear that Dean didn't remember anything. "Alright, we'll figure this out once you're out of here. I need you to listen to me and then you have to fire me as your lawyer."

"Fire you?"

Sam was getting really tired of this one-sided conversation. "I can't set up an ambush and represent you in court at the same time." He could see Dean's attention straying again. "Stay awake and listen to me, or I'm going to go and put a dent in your car."

That got Dean's attention. Sam spoke fast, hoping that this time Dean would remember what he was told.

Tbc

Caroline

May 08


	4. Chapter 4

This chapter has some sex in it. Nothing too graphic, but it could be classed as non-con.

**Breakdown**

**Chapter 4**

The harsh lighting in the interrogation room was hurting Dean's eyes. He folded his arms on the metal table and rested his head on them, squeezing his eyes shut. Almost immediately he knew he wasn't alone. The scent of her body fired his blood and he didn't think to question how she could be here.

"Rest and I will take care of you." Her breath tickled his ear as she leaned closer.

Dean could feel her ample breasts pressing against his back as her fingers worked the tension out of his shoulder muscles. Her touch was sensual, exhilarating and he felt the rise of passion ignite in his groin. That heat scorched him, drawing him deeper and deeper...

"Winchester! Wake up."

"Huh?" Dean's head shot upright, his senses spinning.

"Time to go back to your cell." Officer Preston dangled the cuffs in front of Dean's bleary eyes. "On your feet."

Dean rose shakily to his feet and looked around the room. "Where'd Sam go?" The words slipped out before he could stop them. He swallowed hard as the significance of his mistake hit him.

Preston smirked at him. "Your precious brother left an hour ago. Turn around."

When Dean hesitated, Preston backhanded him. Dean's head snapped back. Preston didn't wait for him to recover. Before he knew what was happening the cuffs were locked in place, pinning his arms behind his back.

"What have you done to me?" Dean asked.

Preston moved closer. "You and Sam are really starting to piss us off. You're almost as much trouble as your old man."

This wasn't good. "Us?" Dean queried.

Preston bowed his head. When he looked up again his blue eyes had become completely black.

"Oh, shit." Dean reacted the only way he could. He head-butted the demon, staggering back a step as his head erupted in pain. Before he could move toward the door, the demon snarled and he found himself flying backwards, stopping only when he collided with the wall. Dean strained against the invisible force holding him immobile.

Preston walked over, tilting his head to one side as he stared at the young hunter. "I'd like to snap your neck, but he's got other plans for you."

"Who?" Dean felt as if someone had super-glued him to the wall. It didn't matter how hard he tried, he couldn't pry himself loose.

"You'll find out." Preston drew back his right arm. "Time to go to sleep. Sweet dreams."

Dean saw the blow coming with no way to avoid it. He closed his eyes just before Preston's fist connected with his chin. The back of his head slammed into the wall and everything went black.

SSSSS

The bed was very comfortable, with silk sheets that slid over his skin. This was definitely an improvement over their usual choice of motels.

"Wake up, baby. I'm lonely."

And that was an improvement over listening to Sam snoring. Dean rolled onto his back and immediately found himself being straddled by the most perfectly beautiful woman he'd ever been fortunate enough to go to bed with. Her skin was smooth and creamy and her long black hair trailed across his chest as she bent down to nuzzle his neck. He arched his back and caught her around the waist so that he could pull her against him. It was then that he realized something wasn't right.

"Has anything weird happened since yesterday?"

Stupid question, Sam. Our whole lives have been one long history of weird. Dean faltered. Why was he thinking about his brother when he was in the middle of the most fantastic sex of his life?

"You'll have to stay here until I can figure something out."

Figure what out? What the hell was wrong with him? Damn, Sam, get out of my head.

His bed partner looked touchingly concerned. "What's wrong, Dean?"

"Nothing."

"Good," she purred, "because I have big plans for you."

The urgency he felt when he heard those words was frightening. There was nothing tender about this act. It was only a means to an end and it felt...wrong. Even during his most casual encounters he had never behaved like this. He felt like an alley cat. Even though it caused him physical pain, he tried to pull away.

"Stop fighting me. You want this as much as I do."

She forcefully brought her mouth down on his, hot and passionate, and his resistance ebbed. He buried himself inside her wet, warm, inviting body. His urgent need for release fuelled his passion and he clutched her to him, thrusting hard into her willing body. He moaned against her lips as her vaginal muscles contracted around him, but the incredible pleasure turned to unspeakable pain as she tightened her grip on his cock.

Dean broke the kiss, panting for breath. "Stop," he gasped.

She sneered at him and tightened her hold. The pain stole what remained of his breath and he arched against the bed. When she laughed sinisterly at his discomfort, he gathered his wits and grabbed her shoulders. With determination he flung her away, crying out as the pressure disappeared. He twisted in the opposite direction and felt himself falling. The stone floor was cold and very, very hard. The silk sheets had turned into a rough blanket, which he clutched around himself as he scrambled away from the creature that was sharing his cell.

She was still a beautiful woman, naked and alluring. If it hadn't been for the wings sprouting from her back and the fact that her eyes had turned an alarming shade of red, Dean might have been further tempted. When he looked closer, he could see the tips of horns protruding from her head.

"Do you still want me, Dean?" she asked as she glided toward him. "I want you." She licked her lips. "You are strong. Not many men see through the illusion."

"Stay away from me," Dean snarled, desperately aware that under the blanket he was stark naked and that he had nothing to fight with. Years of relentless training, however, stopped him from descending into panic. "I've dealt with your kind before. You need your victim to be asleep and I'm not stupid enough to fall back to sleep now." He knew there was also a way to protect himself and, once Sam broke him out of here, it wouldn't be hard to make the charm that would free him from her unwelcome attention.

"I haven't finished with you yet." She stood over him, pinning him in the corner of the cell.

"Sorry, sweetheart. You're not my type." Dean hid his disgust at the knowledge that he'd had sex with this thing. His standards must really be slipping. "Let me guess," he continued. "You're black-eyed friend out there knows what's going on."

"We needed his help to keep you here. He turned out to be a pathetically weak little human so I had to call in some help. Once the demon leaves him, he'll die."

"Why are you doing this? Apart from wanting to get my awesome body into bed," Dean said with a smirk.

"It's what I do. And, you were a good lay."

"Well, your fun's over now, bitch."

She squatted down in front of him, using her wings for balance. "Do you really think we're going to let Sam rescue you?"

Dean punched her in the mouth and scrambled to his feet. "You stay away from my brother," he warned.

She wiped a trace of blood from the side of her mouth and sucked her finger. "I don't want Sam. I want you."

She launched herself into the air, driving him back against the wall. When he swung his fist at her again, she grabbed his arm and twisted it to a point where he was afraid it was going to break. As he tried to twist free she dug her nails into his wrist, ripping the vein open. Dean screamed, looking in horror at the blood that was flowing freely from the wound.

"Do you know what they do with people who try to kill themselves?" she asked, turning her attention to the other wrist. "They lock them up and fill them full of drugs to keep them sedated."

Dean's legs buckled and only her strength kept him from falling to the ground.

"Look for me in your dreams," she gloated. She released her hold and disappeared.

Dean slid to the ground. "Help me, Sammy," he whispered.

SSSSS

Sam set the alarm on his phone for three in the morning and tried to settle down to get a few hours sleep. He hadn't been sleeping well since Jess was killed. Dean didn't make a big deal of it, but Sam knew that his brother was aware of it. He was hovering on the edge of sleep when his phone rang. He snatched it up and looked at the caller ID, hoping that it was his father. His stomach lurched when he recognized who the call was from.

"Dean?"

"Hello, Sammy."

The voice was unfamiliar. "Who the hell are you? And, what are you doing with Dean's phone?"

"I'm an old friend of the family. I doubt if you'll remember me, though. You were only a baby the last time I came to visit."

Sam sat up, struggling to control his breathing. Was this the creature that had killed Mom and Jess? The creature that their father had been hunting for more than twenty-two years? "What have you done to Dean?"

"Me? I haven't done anything to him. I thought you would like to know that he tried to kill himself a couple of hours ago. Very messy. All that blood."

The amusement in the Demon's voice sickened Sam. "Dean wouldn't do that." Sheer force of will kept his voice reasonably steady.

"He was found unconscious in his cell with both wrists slit. Another five minutes and he would have bled to death. Your brother is a very sick young man. The doctors are very worried about him. He's at the local hospital. I'm sure a bright young man like you will find a way to get in to see him."

"I'm going to kill you!"

"Better men than you have tried, Sammy. Your father has spent years trying to find a way to destroy me. His persistence used to be amusing and now he's irritating me."

"Why Dean?" Even as Sam was speaking he was throwing his possessions into his bag. Fortunately, he had packed most of their gear before trying to get some sleep.

"It's a test for you. And, I didn't want you catching up with your daddy just yet."

"You know where he is?" Sam picked up the car keys and headed for the door.

"I always know where he is. Goodbye, Sam. We'll talk again soon."

The line went dead. Sam's heart was racing as he ran to the car. What had the Demon meant about this being a test? His hands shook as he turned the key to start the Impala. He gripped the steering wheel, forcing down the panic that was almost suffocating him. He had to get to the hospital. Closing his eyes he visualized the map of the town he had bought the previous day. Then he slammed the gear shift into drive and floored the gas pedal.

The streets were quiet and he arrived at the hospital within ten minutes. Finding a parking spot wasn't a problem and Sam got as close to the entrance as he could. He ran to the ER and burst through the doors. He crossed to the desk, waiting impatiently as the nurse finished taking the details from a young man who had been involved in a minor car accident. The man moved away to find a seat and, no doubt, wait for hours to be seen by a doctor.

"I'm looking for my brother," Sam said. "His name is Dean Winchester and he would have been brought in by ambulance earlier tonight."

"Winchester? I'll check the records."

Sam tapped his fingers impatiently on the countertop as she checked the computer files. When she looked back up, her previously friendly manner had changed.

"Your brother was brought in from the sheriff's office. He cut his wrists while in custody."

Sam didn't bother trying to tell her that Dean was the last person on earth who would try to commit suicide. Something had attacked his brother and Sam was going to find it and destroy it. "How was he when he was brought in? Where can I find him?"

"His condition was stable. The doctor will be able to tell you more. He's been admitted to ward 41. Go down the corridor and up to the fourth floor."

"Thank you."

It was amazing how much comfort a few words could give. Blood loss would weaken Dean, but very little kept him down. And, it would be a damn sight easier to break him out of a hospital than a prison cell. Sam's optimism lasted precisely as long as it took for the elevator to reach the fourth floor. He stepped out in the hallway, found himself confronted by a security desk and locked doors, and recognized immediately that he had a very serious problem.

Tbc

Caroline

June 08


	5. Chapter 5

This chapter contains a few swear words and some sexual implications. Nothing graphic. Thanks to everyone who is reading and I really appreciate the wonderful reviews.

**Breakdown**

**Chapter 5**

Sam stepped back into the elevator and punched the button for the fifth floor. He didn't think the large orderly manning the security desk had seen him, but if the man did go over to check he would just see the elevator continuing up to the next floor. As soon as the door opened, Sam hurried down the nearest hallway, found the stairs and returned to the first floor. By the time he reached the Impala his heart rate had slowed and he was thinking through the implications of what he'd just seen.

Dean wasn't on a medical ward being treated for his injuries – he was locked in a high security psychiatric ward. That made sense if the doctors were convinced that he'd tried to kill himself while in police custody. What didn't make sense was how the injuries had been inflicted, and why. Dean had grown up fighting. He knew every trick in the book and it would have taken more than one man to subdue him long enough for his wrists to be slashed. An assault like that wouldn't have gone unnoticed, and he didn't think the entire police force would go along with a massive cover-up like this.

It was looking more and more likely that Dean had been set up from the beginning, and that whatever was behind this scheme was playing with them. Well, he wasn't interested in playing games, not when Dean's life was at stake. His new suit was lying across the back seat of the car. He rummaged in his bag until he found a clean shirt. It was time for him to put his book learning to good use.

SSSSS

Dean's brain was refusing to cooperate. He knew he was awake because he could hear voices, but he couldn't force his eyes to open or make his body do more than twitch. He didn't like feeling this vulnerable. That was one step away from being dead, and he had no plans for that to happen any time soon. There was too much unfinished business and he needed to keep watching out for his brother.

A hand stroked his arm making him shudder as he remembered the succubus. The touch traveled to his chest, and that was just too damn much. He wasn't going to lie here and be some passive sex toy for a demon. "Bring it on, bitch," he said, opening his eyes.

The woman bending over him straightened up with a look of surprise. Dean blinked to clear his vision. She was in her forties with short brown hair framing a pleasant enough face. She was wearing a white lab coat and had a stethoscope round her neck. So, that was weird and not at all what he'd expected to see.

He licked his dry lips. "Where...?"

"How do you feel, Dean?"

"What?" He swallowed to try and clear his throat which felt raw and scratchy. "What the hell happened?" He was lying in bed in a small windowless room. He pushed back a feeling of claustrophobia and tried to sit up.

It wasn't just a lingering weakness that defeated him. As he snapped back to full awareness, he realized that his wrists were covered in thick bandages and were being held to the side of the bed by padded cuffs. He tried to move his legs and felt more restraints biting into his ankles. A tube was running from his right arm to a bag of clear fluid hanging from a stand beside him. A thin wire led from a clamp on his finger to a monitor which appeared to be tracking his vital signs.

He tugged at the restraints. "Get these fucking things off me," he growled.

"You need to settle down, Dean."

The tone was professional and soothing and he so wasn't in the mood for it. He had a vague memory of the succubus taunting him and wasn't going to stay tied up like a gift wrapped package for it to feed on. He stopped trying to get free and did his best to look calm. "There's been a misunderstanding," he began.

The doctor sat in the chair next to the bed and leafed through the pages of his chart. "You tore open both your wrists. When the police officers and paramedics tried to help you, you fought them like a wild animal. They were only able to treat you when you passed out from loss of blood. You are restrained now for your own protection and to ensure the safety of the medical staff. There had been no misunderstanding." She raised her eyes to look at him. "We can help you to get better, but you have to cooperate."

"I'm not crazy and I didn't try to kill myself." Dean had to admit to himself that it didn't sound very convincing in the circumstances.

The doctor gave him a pitying look and pulled out a pen. "Why don't you tell me something about yourself, Dean? Help me to understand why you feel your life isn't worth living?"

Oh, great! This was all he needed right now. If he told her one thing about his life they'd lock him away for good. "I'm not really into this touchy, feely, sharing crap. And, I know you won't believe me, but I'm as sane as you."

She didn't look surprised or disappointed. "Denial is a natural reaction. We can talk some more when you're feeling stronger."

Yeah, like that was ever going to happen. He'd rather be in jail dealing with a demon possessed police officer. "Sorry, Doc. I have a date with a judge."

"The judge has already given a ruling. You've been committed to this psychiatric facility for evaluation. He will review your case in twenty-eight days."

"Twenty-eight days? Are you kidding me?" Dean struggled against the straps and his own rising fear. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the air shimmer. When he turned his head the succubus was standing there, watching him with a wholly lascivious smile on her face.

"Do you think you're strong enough to last twenty-eight days?" the demon purred.

Dean's eyes widened and he looked back at the doctor. She was making notes on his chart, oblivious to the creature lurking in the shadows. He could just imagine her reaction if he told her that he was seeing a demon.

With a rustling of wings the succubus flew toward the bed and hovered over him. Dean's struggles intensified as she sank lower, the tip of her tongue peeking out from between her red lips.

"Looks like I'm going to have to do all the work," she said as her hand brushed against the strap securing his right wrist. "But, that's alright with me. Why don't you relax and we can have some fun?"

"Get away from me," Dean yelled.

As the demon's mouth fastened on his he heard the doctor calling for assistance. Strong hands pinned his shoulders to the mattress and a sharp object pricked the skin of his arm. His screams were muffled as the succubus thrust her tongue into his mouth. He had to fight to stop himself gagging in revulsion as his body was invaded. Whatever they'd injected into him was working fast and the last thing he saw was the demon's swirling red eyes.

SSSSS

Sam tried very hard to look calm and professional while the orderly studied his fake business card. Finally, the man seemed satisfied and reached for the phone. Sam looked around, resisting the urge to shuffle his feet as he impatiently waited for someone on the ward to answer.

"Hey, Violet," the man finally said into the phone. "I've got a lawyer here who says he represents Dean Winchester. Can you page Dr. Taylor? I don't want to let him onto the ward without her permission." The orderly listened in silence for a minute and then put down the phone. "You'll have to wait here."

"Thank you." Sam walked away from the desk and rested one shoulder against the wall while he continued his casual inspection of the area. The double doors leading to the psychiatric unit would be made of reinforced steel. There were two small windows, but the glass in them would be impossible to break without a very powerful explosive. The lock was controlled by a sensor pad set into the wall. That would actually make it easier to gain access than if he'd had to pick a sophisticated lock. With all his training it shouldn't be hard to steal a key card. Red lights blinked on the security cameras. They could be a problem on the way out.

He straightened up when the door opened and a middle-aged female doctor appeared. "Dr. Taylor? I'm James Page, Mr. Winchester's attorney."

"I wasn't aware that he had an attorney."

Sam decided it was best to stick to the story they'd used earlier. "Well, technically he fired me." He gave her his most ingratiating smile. "When I heard what happened, I decided to offer my services pro bono."

"I see. I'm curious to know who told you that Mr. Winchester was here. It's two in the morning and you must admit that it's a curious time for a lawyer to turn up unannounced."

"I got a call from his brother. The truth is that I've been a friend of the family for a long time. That's how Dean knew to contact me when he was arrested. So, I have a personal interest, as well as a professional one." Sam hoped that he didn't sound as desperate as he felt. If she turned him away, or made enquiries about his credentials he would never get in to see his brother.

"A fortunate coincidence," Dr. Taylor said. Her severe expression softened. "We can talk more comfortably in my office."

She pulled a small white plastic card from the pocket of her lab coat, using it to trigger the door mechanism. Sam followed her inside. He found that they were in a long corridor with doors set at irregular intervals along its length. Dr. Taylor turned right at an intersection and then right again into a small office. The whole place was silent, sterile and shot Sam's nerves to pieces.

"How is Dean doing?" he asked.

"He is very weak. That is to be expected given the severity of the blood loss. He was conscious about half an hour ago, but I'm afraid I had to sedate him as he was having another psychotic episode."

Sam couldn't keep the shock from showing on his face. "Are you sure? Dean's never suffered with any mental illness before."

"I'm quite sure, Mr. Page." There was a hint of ice in the doctor's voice. "And, from what the police told me about the charges against him, I have to wonder how well you really know him. He is a seriously disturbed young man."

"Can I see him?"

"Very well. I only gave him a very mild sedative to calm him down so he should be waking up soon."

Once again, Sam followed the doctor down featureless hallways until she stopped in front of a door.

"You might find it hard to have a coherent conversation with him. When I was talking with him earlier he seemed rational enough, until he started shouting and struggling against the restraints. He seemed to be afraid that someone was going to attack him, but there was no one else in the room. Hallucinations are not uncommon and, sadly, they can seem very real to the patient." She opened the door and stood aside to let Sam precede her.

Sam caught his breath in shock when he saw his brother. Dean was tied down to the bed, his skin pallid and his face fixed in an expression of pure terror. Although his brother's eyes were closed he was twitching restlessly. As Sam watched in horror, Dean arched his back and cried out before sagging back against the mattress. He strode quickly across the room, sat down and leaned over.

"Dean. Dean, come on, man, wake up."

There was no response except for the slight rise and fall of Dean's chest. At least, he looked peaceful. Whatever had been disturbing his unconscious mind appeared to have gone. Sam looked down at the bandages and strap circling his brother's wrist.

"Are these really necessary?" he asked.

"For the moment. There is a very real risk that he will try to harm himself again. Once I have had a chance to evaluate him and prescribe the proper medication, it should be possible to remove the restraints."

"He won't...he didn't...Dean would never harm himself" Sam gave up in the face of the politely disbelieving expression on the doctor's face. There really was nothing he could say to convince her and, if he tried, he would end up sounding crazy.

"Sam?" Dean's voice was very weak and totally lacking in its usual confident tone.

Sam turned back to the bed, acutely aware of the doctor standing behind him. "My name's James. You do remember that, don't you Dean?"

Dazed green eyes stared at him. "James? Yeah, sorry, Dude. I've been a bit out of it."

Sam let out a relieved breath. At least Dean was aware enough to keep up the pretence. He looked over his shoulder at the doctor. "I'd like to speak to my client alone."

"I can let you stay for ten minutes and then I have to run some tests. I will wait outside. Call if you need anything."

As soon as the door closed behind her Dean started tugging on the straps. "Get me loose, Sammy."

Although Sam's fingers itched to comply with his brother's plea, he knew that it would be counterproductive. They wouldn't make it out of the room before the doctor called for reinforcements. "I can't, not yet. What the hell's going on, Dean?"

Dean opened his mouth to speak and then shut it again as his gaze tracked toward the corner of the room. Sam turned quickly, but there was nothing to see. Long experience told him that didn't mean a damn thing.

"What is it? What can you see?"

Dean licked his lips and turned away. "Nothing."

Sam wasn't convinced. "Look at me, Dean. Tell me who cut your wrists." He saw the flicker of uncertainty in Dean's eyes.

The answer, when it finally came, was the last thing Sam expected to hear.

"I did. I did it to myself."

Tbc

Caroline

June 08


	6. Chapter 6

I'm sorry this chapter has taken such a long time to be posted. I had a couple of stories in another fandom that I wanted to finish. Now that they are out of the way I can concentrate on this one.

**Breakdown**

**Chapter 6**

For one horrible moment the obvious sincerity on Dean's face fooled Sam. Shocked to the core he could only stare at his brother who, for as long as Sam could remember, had faced everything life had thrown at him without flinching. Had the unrelenting hunting and responsibility finally broken him? Or, had their father's disappearance been the catalyst that had triggered a complete breakdown?

Dean wasn't looking at him anymore. He'd dropped his bombshell and immediately turned away. And that was when Sam knew without a shred of doubt that Dean was lying. The skin on the back of his neck tingled in warning. Something was in the room with them. Something that only Dean could see. That ruled out a demon which either inhabited a human body or appeared as a cloud of dirty black smoke. Whatever it was had frightened Dean into lying. What could do that?

The obvious answer hit Sam hard. Dean wasn't afraid for himself. He was doing what he'd always done. He was protecting his little brother. Shock was replaced by a searing anger. When would Dean accept that he was old enough, and smart enough, to take care of himself? It hurt knowing that his brother would willingly sacrifice his own life, having been brought up by their father to believe that Sam was more important. There were times when he hated his father for the way he'd treated Dean. What made it worse was that Dean had always desperately sought their father's approval.

Sam bent down and started to unbuckle the strap around his brother's right wrist. "Alright, Bro, I'll play along," he whispered as Dean turned his head sharply to stare at him. "But, we are going to talk about this later."

"What are you doing?"

The question came from the doctor who had obviously decided that his visit had gone on long enough. Sam glanced over to the doorway as he continued to free his brother's arm. Not surprisingly the doctor didn't look any too happy. He turned his attention to the restraints around Dean's ankles.

"Stop, or I'll have to call security." The doctor had reached the bed and sounded seriously pissed.

Dean had freed his left wrist and was attempting to sit up. He became even paler and there was a green tinge around his mouth.

"He's going to be sick," Sam snapped. "If I'd left him tied down he would have choked and you would be looking at a substantial law suit."

Dean obligingly leaned over the far side of the bed and began to retch. Sam quickly realized that it wasn't an act. He sat on the edge of the bed and supported Dean as his brother emptied the contents of his stomach onto the floor. The readings on the monitor spiked and an alarm sounded.

Two nurses rushed into the room as Dean collapsed back onto the pillows, shaking and drenched in sweat. Dr. Taylor pushed Sam out of the way and pressed her fingers against the pulse in Dean's neck. The strident alarm cut out as the doctor used her stethoscope to check Dean's heart and lungs. Sam watched silently, helpless to aid his stricken brother.

"Your vital signs are still very weak," the doctor said as she returned her stethoscope to its place around her neck. "It's hardly surprising given the blood loss and your highly agitated state."

Dean didn't look agitated. In fact, he didn't look capable of much independent movement. Sam had to accept that, in this state, it would be almost impossible to get his brother out of the hospital. At least his obvious frailty meant that the doctor wasn't rushing to replace the restraints.

"I'd feel a whole lot better if you let me out of here," Dean said weakly.

"Even if I was willing to release you – which I'm not – you would go straight back to jail."

"Better than staying in this frigging hospital," Dean's voice had regained a little of its normal strength.

Sam glared at him. If Dean continued to run his mouth he'd talk himself right back into the restraints. Fortunately, the silent message got through and Dean shut up.

"I told you before, Dean," Dr. Taylor said soothingly. "We're here to help you, not punish you."

Dean rolled his eyes before turning onto his side, his movements sluggish. His slightly unfocussed gaze settled on Sam. "Be careful. This is..." His forehead creased as if he was trying to remember something.

"What?" Sam prompted gently.

Dean's expression brightened. "It's a real funky town."

Sam felt like his heart had leapt into his throat. "Yeah, I know, Dean."

The look of relief on Dean's face was pitiful, making it more difficult for Sam to leave him, even for a few hours. But, he couldn't think of a single valid reason to stay. He could hardly tell the doctor that he needed to protect his brother from some invisible threat. "I'll be back in the morning," he promised. "And I'll find a way to get you out of this."

"Know you will." Dean curled into a tighter ball and closed his eyes. "Always were a smart kid."

Sam watched Dean slipping into a peaceful sleep. When he turned away he found the doctor staring at him. He cleared his throat awkwardly, wondering if she suspected that he'd been lying to her. The nurses had gone, but an orderly was on his way into the room carrying a mop and bucket. The smell of sweat and vomit hung heavily in the air and Sam began to feel an irresistible urge to get out of the hospital and into the fresh air.

"I have a feeling you know more about my patient than you're telling me."

"Sorry. Attorney client privilege." Sam gave her a weak smile.

"Well, Mr. Page, you aren't helping your client by concealing information. Think about that. Now, I must insist that you leave. I have other patients to attend to."

Sam looked back toward the bed. Dean was completely out of it, but at least he was no longer in restraints. He nodded an acknowledgment to the orderly, who was looking less than happy as he swabbed the floor. "See you later, Bro," he muttered under his breath.

SSSSS

The door closed with satisfying finality and the orderly looked up. A casual wave of his hand ensured that the surveillance camera would malfunction for the next few minutes. He propped the mop against the wall before strolling over to look at Dean. "My, my, Sam's grown since I last saw him." He looked up. "Dean's looking very peaceful. You've worn him out, my dear."

The air shimmered and coalesced into a beautiful woman wearing a nurse's uniform. The succubus glided over to look hungrily at the sleeping hunter. "He is very...talented." She reached out to touch him.

"I think not." The orderly's eyes flashed yellow before returning to a nondescript dull brown. "I don't want him dead. Sammy has too much to learn and who better to teach him than his devoted brother."

"You said I could have him." The succubus pouted and then bared her fangs.

"I lied."

"Bastard," she hissed, her nails extending into sharp claws.

"You really don't want to take me on," the demon said, totally unimpressed. "I could crush you like a bug."

The succubus shrank back, clearly torn between lust for her victim and fear of the yellow-eyed demon. "Why are the Winchesters so important?" she whined.

"I don't share my plans with minions. You can have Dean again tomorrow. I want to keep him drained and compliant. This little rescue mission is for Sam. I want to see how much progress he's made. He's certainly come a long way since John obligingly disappeared. Or maybe it was seeing his pretty little girlfriend pinned to the ceiling in flames. I always did like a good bonfire and she burned so brightly. Just like Mary." The demon looked appraisingly at Dean, who remained oblivious to the conversation. "You're quite an asset, Tiger. If only you knew what you're grooming your precious baby brother to become."

"They're hunters. Why not just kill them?"

"That's the trouble with your kind. No imagination. Pick a man, screw his brains out and then move on. Sometimes it pays to be subtle."

"Subtle?" The succubus laughed and edged closer to the bed. "You're methods aren't subtle."

"You'd been surprised." His eyes narrowed. "I said, leave him alone!"

He barely moved, but power rippled through him and he flung the succubus across the room. She crashed heavily into the wall and slid to the floor, cowering.

"Go and find someone else to torment," he ordered. "I'll send for you when I'm ready. And don't even think about invading his dreams without my permission or it'll be the last thing you do."

She kept her head bowed as she answered. "Yes, master."

SSSSS

Five hours sleep hadn't even blunted the edges of Sam's exhaustion. He'd crashed out in the motel closest to the hospital at three a.m. intending only to sleep for an hour. He rubbed his eyes and squinted at the papers spread out around him. A cup of coffee was sitting forgotten and cooling at his elbow, beside a half eaten breakfast sandwich from the McDonald's across the street.

He was reviewing the notes he'd made following Dean's arrest, and thinking about his brother's strange behaviour at the police station. "Shit!" He straightened up and ran a hand through his unruly hair. How could he have missed it? As all the pieces fell into place he couldn't believe he hadn't worked it out sooner.

He pushed the papers aside and reached for his father's journal. "Succubus, succubus," he muttered, leafing through the pages. "Come on, Dad, you must have run across one of those before."

The entries were haphazard, a visual reminder of all they'd endured for the last twenty-two years. Sam forced himself to slow down and study each page until he found what he was looking for. He read eagerly. He already knew the lore. What he needed was a way to kill it. Instead he found was a protection spell. He picked up his pen and scribbled down the supplies he would need.

There would be time later to find a means of destroying it. In fact, Sam conceded to himself, keeping it away from Dean would be enough. Except for the fact that he wanted it dead for what it had done to his brother. He grabbed his coat and the car keys and headed out to the Impala.

SSSSS

Dean sat in a corner of the featureless room, his knees drawn up to his chest and his arms resting on them. He'd woken up to find that he was alone and had rolled clumsily off the bed, intent upon getting away from the straps that had made him such easy prey. He was still hooked up to the monitor and drip, both of which had rolled easily across the floor when he went to check the door. It was, as expected, locked with no obvious way open it from the inside.

A small camera was mounted on the wall out of reach. The red light blinked on and off, showing that it was active. He hated being spied on and had shown his unseen watcher a finger as evidence of his irritation. He hadn't been surprised when the camera swivelled to track his movements.

He was very hungry. He couldn't remember when he'd last eaten and would cheerfully kill for a nice rare steak and a pile of greasy french fries. He was also cold. The thin white T-shirt and trousers weren't providing any protection against the icy air being forced out by the air conditioning unit. He debated going back to the bed to get the blanket, but couldn't summon up the energy.

His gaze swept the room in a regular pattern, seeking any sign of the succubus. She hadn't appeared in his dreams, which was a relief and worrying at the same time. The bitch had threatened to go after Sam if he said anything to alert his brother to her presence. The lie he'd told about his injuries had tasted sour in his mouth. He hadn't really expected Sam to believe it, and had been relieved when there had been no argument. He'd taken a risk in throwing out their code to warn Sam that he was under duress. If the demon had sensed his disobedience she might have gone to torment Sam anyway.

He was angry, frustrated and worried about his brother. He slammed his fist repeatedly against the wall, without thinking of the consequences. Thirty seconds later the door opened to admit a grim-faced nurse and a very muscular orderly.

"You need to go back to bed now, Mr. Winchester," the nurse told him.

Dean smirked to cover his apprehension. "Only if you join me."

The nurse flushed. "Are you going to do as you're told?"

"What do you think?" Dean stood up and disentangled himself from the drip and monitor.

His route to the open door was blocked by the orderly who was built like a professional wrestler. On a good day Dean thought he could take him. Unfortunately, this wasn't a good day. He sighed. "I'll go back to bed if you promise not to use the restraints," he offered.

The nurse shook her head. "They're for your own protection. You'll hurt yourself again if you keep hitting the wall like that."

"Give me a break," Dean said. "I bet you'd feel like hitting something if you were the one shut up in this room."

The orderly was moving toward him, clearly not impressed. Dean glowered at the man and got ready to fight. "Okay, I'll be good. I promise. But, if you try to tie me down again you'll spend the day walking with a limp."

The man just smiled and kept on coming. Dean swung at his face. The blow was blocked by an arm that felt as unyielding as a brick wall. He tried again with an equal lack of success. The orderly caught his arm on the third swing and twisted it behind his back. Dean's senses began to fade as he struggled to break the merciless grip.

He hadn't noticed the nurse moving closer until he felt the needle prick his skin. "Crap," he said, as his knees buckled.

Tbc

Caroline

July 08


	7. Chapter 7

**Breakdown**

**Chapter 7**

It was close to noon before Sam made it back to the hospital. He had to wait again before being admitted to the unit. This time the doctor who met him was a man who looked to be close to retirement age. World weary eyes looked out from behind a pair of wire rimmed glasses.

"Dr. Taylor said you'd be back."

"Is she on duty?" Sam really hoped she wasn't. He still had an uncomfortable feeling that she was suspected he'd been lying to her.

"She's got a well earned forty-eight hours away from this madhouse." The doctor fixed Sam with a fierce grey gaze. "So, you're going to have to peddle your bullshit to me instead."

Sam's mouth dropped open and he gaped at the doctor. "What?"

"My colleague expressed some concerns about your bone fides."

"She did?" Sam could hear his voice rising in pitch and hurriedly cleared his throat.

"Yes, son, she did. So I called my golfing buddy, Jason Carlson, who happens to be the senior partner of Carlson, Carlson & Cunningham. He'd never heard of you, and was very upset that someone was using the name of his firm to gain access to the police station and a secure hospital ward."

"Ah! What did you say to him?"

"I told him to leave it to me."

Sam turned his most innocent look on the doctor, trying to ignore the river of cold sweat running down his spine. "I suppose you'd like the truth."

The doctor folded his arms. "That would make a pleasant change."

"Like I told Dr. Taylor, Dean's a friend of the family. He called me when he was arrested and asked for my help. I wasn't sure that the police would let me in to see him, so I pretended to be his lawyer."

"Uh huh." The doctor's expression hadn't changed. "I'm still waiting to hear the truth, boy, because that isn't it. I've spent most of my life dealing with folk who can't tell fact from fiction and I got very good at figuring it out for myself. Now, you aren't delusional which means you're straight up lying. You're good at it too. Just not quite good enough."

"Alright." Sam hoped that Dean would forgive him for the lie he was about to tell, and that the doctor would believe him. "Dean's my brother. He's always been a little...unbalanced. I hadn't seen him for a couple of years until he showed up one night at my college dorm with some crazy story about being a hunter of evil spirits. He begged me to come with him, so I took some time out, hoping that I could help him get through whatever was bothering him."

"Didn't it ever occur to you that he needed medical help?" the doctor snapped.

Sam breathed a little easier and settled more comfortably into his tale. "I tried, but he wasn't interested. Our mother died in a house fire when Dean was four. After that we lived with our father, moving around from town to town. We never really had a settled home. Just before Dean came to find me our father took off. I think that's what caused Dean's breakdown. Mom was dead, dad was missing and I'd walked out on the family to go to college. He just couldn't cope on his own."

He knew that his half-truths sounded convincing. What really bothered him, though, was the knowledge that it could have been true if Dean hadn't been as strong-willed as he was. His brother had come as close as Sam had ever seen him to begging that night back in Stanford. His capable and self-assured older brother hadn't wanted to be alone. And, he'd been willing to walk out on Dean once the job in Jericho was done. If it hadn't been for Jessica's death...

"That still doesn't explain why you were impersonating a lawyer."

This was the really tricky part. "Some of the charges against Dean relate to the time we've been traveling together. I was afraid I'd be arrested as well if they knew who I was, but I couldn't just abandon him. He's my brother."

The doctor narrowed his eyes. "I still think there are things you're not telling me."

Sam maintained his wide-eyed innocent look. "What are you going to do?"

"I should call the cops and get your ass hauled off to jail."

"But?" Sam asked hopefully.

"But, Dr. Taylor tells me that the only time Dean was completely calm was when you were there. I think his wellbeing is more important than turning you in."

"Can I see him?"

"In a minute. Just so you know, you're not off the hook yet. You step out of line around me and I'll yank your visiting privileges and have you taken in for questioning. Dean's under a committal order and he isn't going anywhere. Do we understand each other?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Your brother had another episode this morning and had to be sedated. He should be coming round soon."

The doctor's news terrified Sam. The succubus had been draining Dean for several days. Eventually the damage would be so great that his brother would never wake up. "I've brought something that might help." He pulled out a metal bracelet. "Like I told you, Dean's been seeing things that...aren't really there. I think I can convince him that this will protect him from the evil spirits."

The doctor looked at him sceptically. "You almost sound as if you believe this crap."

"I've done a lot of research," Sam replied truthfully. "And, I know what Dean believes."

"Alright. It can't do any harm. Follow me."

SSSSS

One minute he was fighting a losing battle against the succubus. The next she was pulling away from him, hissing as if something was causing her extreme pain. The noise turned into an anguished wail which assaulted his ears and made him cringe. Then, she was gone. A deep sense of loss swept over and through him. He felt like he had lost something too precious to live without. Drained, confused and hovering on the edge of consciousness, a tear leaked from the corner of his eye.

"Dean! Dean, wake up."

The voice was insistent so Dean opened his eyes. He had to look a long way up to see Sam's face. "Sasquatch," he said, and saw Sam smile.

"Welcome back, Bro."

Dean frowned as a new face swam into his line of sight. Another doctor. He hated frigging doctors. He was almost positive that he wasn't meant to acknowledge that Sam was his brother. Sam had used a different name last time he was here. He tried to remember it without success. "Sam?" he queried, hoping that the doctor would just think he was disorientated.

Sam didn't correct him. He just smiled that goofy smile of his.

"What happened?" Dean found, to his great relief, that he wasn't tied down. There was, however, a new piece of jewellery on his right wrist. His arm felt very heavy as he moved it to get a closer look. It was a silver identity bracelet. He squinted at the engraving and began to grin. Three simple letters – the initials of Caspar, Melchior and Balthasar. A powerful protection against the succubus when combined with the right ritual. And, the reaction of the succubus confirmed that Sam had got it right. Sam pulled up his own sleeve to show that he was wearing a matching bracelet. "Smart," Dean said admiringly. "Very smart."

"I'm sorry it took me so long to figure it out."

Dean glanced at the doctor and then back at his brother. He raised an eyebrow.

"I had to tell the doctor the truth."

Dean had to think about that. If Sam had told the complete truth they'd both be in straightjackets and locked in a padded cell.

The doctor clearly misinterpreted the prolonged silence. "Your brother was acting in your best interests, Dean. I'm Dr. McNeil and I've taken over as your physician. Now that I understand your problem I can prescribe the correct medication and arrange counseling sessions. You'll feel much better once you talk about what's bothering you."

"Oh, God! Kill me now! What the hell did you tell him, Sam?"

"Dean!" Sam hissed.

"What?" Dean asked as innocently as he could. It had always been too easy to push Sam's buttons.

The doctor was looking at him severely. "You pay attention to your brother. He knows what's best for you."

Dean's eyebrows shot up, but he had enough sense not to make some smart assed comment. His silence seemed to satisfy the doctor.

"I'll send a nurse in to take some blood."

Dean scowled. "I've given enough blood lately."

"Which is why we need to test it. You're probably anemic, but a course of iron injections will soon sort that out."

"How about some food?" Dean asked.

"How does your stomach feel?"

"Fine."

When the doctor looked skeptical Sam intervened. "Trust me, Doctor. If his stomach can survive all the junk food he eats, it can survive anything."

"That sounds like something else we should discuss," the doctor said. "A healthy diet..."

Dean groaned. "Make him go away, Sammy."

The doctor's face almost cracked into a smile. "I'll see that you get something to eat. I want you to rest today and we can start your sessions tomorrow."

"I can't wait."

The doctor couldn't have missed the sarcastic tone, but appeared to be willing to overlook it. "You can stay for half an hour," he told Sam. "He's weaker than he'd like us to believe. You can come back at visiting time this evening."

"I'd rather stay."

"This is a hospital, young man. We have rules, most of which you've already broken. You don't really want me to call the police, do you?"

Dean looked at his brother, feeling very confused. He recognized the look on Sam's face. He'd seen it often enough during the frequent arguments between Sam and their father. It said that Sam knew this was a fight he couldn't win, and that he hated having to capitulate.

"No, sir," Sam ground out.

"Good. The door will have to be locked. If you need assistance press that button." The doctor pointed to a switch on the wall beside the bed. "I'll be back to throw you out in thirty minutes."

The door closed behind the doctor and Dean weakly began to push himself into a sitting position. The damn doctor had been right about how shitty he felt and there was a dull ache under the bandages around his wrists that he hadn't noticed before. Obviously seeing him struggle, Sam reached out to help.

Dean's pride got in the way of his common sense. "Hey, Dude, I can manage."

"No, you can't."

Despite his protests Sam steadied him with one hand and adjusted the pillows with the other. Dean lay back with an aggrieved sigh. "Want to tell me what the hell's going on?" he demanded, once he'd recovered his breath.

Sam pulled over a chair and sprawled in it, his long legs bumping up against the side of the bed. "The doctor wasn't buying my story so I had to tell him the truth. Well, not exactly the truth."

"Sam," Dean growled, his patience at a very low ebb.

"I, uh, told him you were mentally unstable and that you believed your job was to hunt evil spirits." The words emerged in a rush.

"Oh, well that's just great! I sure hope you've got a plan to get me out of here because you've just booked me a one way ticket to the nuthouse."

"I'm working on it."

"Why doesn't that make me feel all warm inside?" Dean sniped. "Could you be any less convincing?"

"It isn't easy, Dean. I'm doing the best I can."

Damn! Why could he never stay mad at his brother? "I know, Sam. I just don't like being locked up. And, I worry about you."

For a second Sam looked irritated. "I'm fine. I was fine all the time I was at college. I'm not completely incapable of looking after myself. I had good teachers, remember?"

"I know, but then you left. You got soft."

"Just because I left doesn't mean I forgot everything Dad drilled into me."

"Good, 'cause there's no legal way to get me out of here, and no way to cover it up either."

"It doesn't matter. I'll do whatever I have to."

"I'm sorry, Sam. Really I am. I screwed up and now your life's going to get screwed up too."

"There's no way I'm going to leave you here. And, none of this is your fault. All those judges and police officers were corrupted by the succubus or some other demon. You were set up right from the beginning."

"Except that I probably did all those things they accused me of."

"Probably," Sam conceded. "I'm still not letting them keep you locked up. We have to find Dad and that demon..." His voice trailed off.

"What's wrong?"

"I've just remembered something. I got a call from your cell phone. That's how I knew to come to the hospital."

That didn't surprise Dean. When he was brought to the hospital he'd hardly been in a fit state to give details of his next of kin. Using his phone to track down his family made sense. But, Sam's tone suggested that this hadn't been a routine call. "Who was it?"

"That's the thing. He didn't give a name, just said he was an old friend of the family. The voice was...evil. I think...I think it might have been the demon that killed Mom and Jess."

Dean's stomach lurched unpleasantly, making him glad that it was empty. "You don't know that, Sam."

"Someone's pulling the strings. Do you really think it was a coincidence that the succubus picked on you?"

"Maybe she heard about my awesome reputation."

Sam shook his head. "I don't believe you, man. This is serious."

Before Dean could answer the lock clicked and a young, very attractive nurse walked into the room carrying a small tray. Both brothers watched her as he walked across the room.

"The doctor asked me to take a blood sample," she said. She reached for Dean's right arm. "I like your bracelet. What do those initials mean?" she asked.

"Nothing important." Dean's attention was drawn to her breasts which were pressing very firmly against the thin fabric of her blouse. He was only vaguely aware of her readying the syringe.

"Dean, look out!"

When Sam shouted, Dean noticed that the syringe was already full. As he tried to make sense of that unexpected fact she plunged the needle down into his arm.

Tbc

Caroline

July 08


	8. Chapter 8

**Breakdown**

**Chapter 8**

Sam, being a red-blooded male, hadn't been immune to the nurse's charms. Her short honey-blonde hair framed a very attractive face, with lightly tanned skin and alluring blue eyes. The white uniform was one step away from being indecently tight. But, mixed in with the appreciation of her curves was the memory of Jess dressed in a nurse's outfit for Halloween. She had been sexy and provocative and he'd been happy when the evening was over and they'd been able to put their bed to good use. The sense of loss provoked by that memory was so profound and raw that he had to turn away.

That was when he noticed the red light in the camera blinking erratically and the lights in the ceiling behaving the same way. Without stopping to think, he yelled a warning to his brother and fumbled in his pocket for the flask of Holy water. It was the only weapon he'd been able to bring into this secure facility, and it wasn't going to be enough.

The needle was stuck in Dean's arm by the time he was able to throw the water in the girl's face. She screamed when her skin began to sizzle. Sam pushed her to one side and yanked the needle out. The reservoir was still full and the tip was dry. Whatever was in there hadn't entered Dean's body. He met his brother's wide-eyed stare and let out a relieved breath.

However, they were still locked in a room with a demon and no weapon that could defeat it. Dean was trying to get out of bed, his movements slow and clumsy. Although weak, he wore an expression of eager anticipation and Sam didn't have to guess what was going through his brother's mind. Dean had had enough of being a victim. Now, he wanted to hurt something.

The demon had recovered and her eyes were now an inky black, but the element of surprise was gone. Running footsteps could be heard in the hallway and they'd soon have more company than the demon wanted.

"What a shame," she purred, flashing a malicious grin. "Looks like we're going to be interrupted. Bye, boys. See you around."

The girl's head snapped back and a plume of black smoke shot out of her mouth to disappear through the air vent. She immediately collapsed in an unconscious heap. Sam fell to his knees by her side and felt for a pulse.

"Is she alright?" Dean asked.

"I think so. Her pulse is faint, but it's steady enough." He looked at Dean who was swaying on his feet. "That was too close, dude."

"What's going on in here?" the doctor demanded as he burst into the room, closely followed by two orderlies.

Sam looked over from his kneeling position by the nurse. "She fainted." He kept his right hand and the syringe out of sight. He didn't need the doctor asking any more questions.

When the doctor bent over to check on her Sam stood and backed away. He exchanged a worried look with his brother as Dean lowered himself down to sit on the bed. It was hard for him to see his brother looking so tired. There was no color in Dean's face except for his green eyes which blazed feverishly bright. Sweat ran down the older man's face and there was a definite tremor in his hands.

The doctor stood up. "She's out cold. Take her to room 210 and ask Dr. Grant to take a look at her."

One of the orderlies came forward and scooped her up into his arms.

The doctor swung round to glare at Dean. "You, get back into bed." He held Dean's furious stare for a few seconds before turning to Sam. "You can leave."

That was the last thing Sam wanted to do. He couldn't protect Dean if he wasn't there. "You said I could have thirty minutes."

"I changed my mind. Out. Now!"

Dean had settled back under the covers with an openly mutinous look. It was clear that he wasn't going to be an easy or cooperative patient. "Go on, Sam. I'll be fine just as long as they don't fill me full of drugs or try to tie me down again." His words and tone were a direct challenge.

"That, young man depends upon your behavior," the doctor snapped in response.

"Alright, but I'll be back this evening." Sam wasn't even sure he had that much time left. The rules of the game had changed and he had to find a way to rescue Dean or risk losing his brother forever.

SSSSS

The succubus was sulking. She didn't like being interrupted while she was feeding. And, it had hurt. The spell of protection that had flung her away from Dean had felt like a thousand poisoned needles entering her body all at once. It had taken a long time for the effects to fade. She slunk back and folded her wings when the yellow-eyed bastard joined her in an empty room in the hospital basement.

"I want him back," she hissed. "He's mine."

"There are plenty more pathetic men in the world. You can choose anyone you like."

"He's not pathetic." She cringed as the demon looked at her.

"Interesting. What a pity Sam put a stop to your games."

"He stopped that little nurse, too," she said spitefully.

"That was just a diversion. Something to knock him even further off-balance. He knows now that Dean's in danger even with the bracelet and spell of protection. It'll give him something else to worry about."

"I hate him. He'll find a way to take Dean away from me," she whined.

"I'm afraid you're right, and I'm not ready for that to happen yet. I need to see what Sammy's capable of and how far he'll go to save his big brother. He's always been too 'moral' for his own good. I'm quite disappointed. John did such a good job with Dean. Point him at something, tell him to kill it and he'll do it. He never wastes time analyzing the rights and wrongs. What a pity John didn't have the same success with Sam."

"He's still a hunter." She didn't have to add that he'd cut off the access to her food source. That was enough to make her want to tear Sam Winchester into tiny pieces.

"He is, but he's a hunter with a conscience. Nasty things, consciences. Never had any time for them. I need him to be ruthless. That's the only way he'll survive his destiny."

The succubus didn't care about Sam's destiny. She wanted Dean. His potent sexuality was like a drug. He wasn't the first male to affect her like this, but he was the first she hadn't been able to play with whenever she wanted. She whimpered. Just thinking about him was bringing her to the edge of orgasm. "Please," she begged. "I'll do anything you want."

She didn't need to see the demon's knowing smirk to understand that she was being manipulated just like the Winchesters. She didn't matter. All she wanted was to savor Dean's sexuality as she drained the life out of him. Still, she'd heard rumors about this demon and had been arrogant enough to believe that she was stronger. She wouldn't make that mistake again. "Please…"

"Since you ask so nicely, I'll see what I can do."

SSSSS

Lunch had been a disappointment. How did they expect him to recover his strength if all they gave him to eat was pasta and salad? The food had been bad enough, but there had been the added indignity of being watched while he ate. Perhaps they thought he'd use the plastic fork to kill himself. Since there had been nothing even remotely resembling meat on the plate, the thought had crossed his mind.

He'd eaten everything. That was another lesson their father had drilled into them. Never waste food. And he knew what it was like to go hungry, usually so that Sam could eat. He'd never really seen it as a sacrifice, although he'd grumbled on occasion. It was just another fact of his life. He was the older brother and Sam was his responsibility. Maybe that helped to explain his appetite now for what Sam would label junk food. He'd tried to hold onto the fork when he was finished, but the orderly had noticed and had demanded that he hand it over.

As soon as he was left alone, he began to check every inch of the room. There wasn't much to see. The bed had a sturdy metal frame and a reasonably comfortable mattress. He tested the joints, but nothing was going to come apart. The padded straps which had been used to confine his wrists and ankles were securely welded to the frame. He shuddered whenever he looked at them and vowed that they wouldn't get to use them again without a fight. The visitor's chair was plastic and too light to be used as any kind of weapon.

He smiled at the camera every few minutes just to show what a wonderful time he was having. He was surprised that they didn't come to put a stop to his exploration, but it seemed like they weren't interested unless he showed signs of trying to beat his brains out against the blank white walls. The effort of moving around was quickly sapping his strength, but he was damned if he was going to let the bastards see that.

He left the door until last. The orderly who'd brought his food had used a key card to unlock it when he was done. There was no handle on the inside. It opened out into the hallway. It had been a brief and tantalizing glimpse of…well, not exactly freedom.

Dean ran his hands over the wall beside the door. The sensor wasn't obvious, so it must be set into the wall itself and covered with a thin layer of plaster. He didn't think they'd let him get away with punching holes in the wall, though, to find it. He'd have to watch more closely next time someone came in and he'd be sure to tell Sam to lift a key card.

He had no idea how many locked doors lay between him and freedom. Sam would know. Sam would figure out a way to rescue him. Since Jessica's death, his brother had been demonstrating a real talent for hunting. Sam was driven now, in a way he'd never been before. Dean wondered what their father would think of the change in his younger son. He clenched his fists, wishing that he had something to hit. He hated waiting and he hated feeling helpless. This place was really starting to wear on his nerves.

Having nothing else to do he went back to bed. His body craved sleep. His mind refused to cooperate, being too full of questions. He lay on his back, fingering the comforting presence of the bracelet Sam had given him. The succubus had done serious damage, draining him almost to the point of total exhaustion. Yet, a part of him missed the sexual connection. It was like an addiction and he knew that this was one of her weapons. She made her victims depend on her. Most never knew what it was that haunted their sleep, and then, their waking minds. After all, how do you fight a myth? He knew what lurked in the dark and had still become her victim.

Dean closed his tired eyes to block out the harsh fluorescent light. It wasn't impossible that the succubus had just happened to pick him. It could have been random chance, although he hadn't believed in coincidences for a long time. But, that didn't explain the two demons he'd encountered. Or was it one demon occupying two different bodies? His head began to hurt as he sought a pattern among his fragmented thoughts.

It was very unusual for demonic creatures to band together. If something was uniting them that was very bad news. He turned restlessly onto his side. If Sam didn't get him out soon he was going to have to take matters into his own hands. And, that would mean hurting people, which was something he didn't want to think about. His job was to protect people, even if most of them never knew that they needed protecting.

He opened his eyes when he heard the door being unlocked. The lights began to flicker. "Damn," he said. He didn't recognize the man who walked into the room. He didn't have to. He knew that he was in trouble. The man wore an orderly's uniform, but he moved with a confident swagger that made Dean's skin crawl. He tried to roll off the bed to face this new threat on his feet.

"Don't get up on my account."

Dean's body slammed back against the mattress and stayed there. He gritted his teeth as he tried to move. It felt like there was a ton weight sitting on his chest and crushing him.

"I brought you something to drink," the man said, approaching the bed.

"Stay away from me, you son of a bitch," Dean snarled. He was sweating with the effort of trying to break the demon's hold and his heart was laboring with the strain.

"Where are your manners, Dean?"

"Go to hell." It was getting harder to breathe as the pressure increased.

"I don't think so. I like it here." The demon stood beside the bed, unscrewing the cap from a plain silver flask. "You look tense. This will help you to relax."

Dean glared at the surveillance camera. Couldn't they see that he was in trouble? He might have called for help except that his chest was too tight to allow him to do more than suck in short painful breaths. Besides, he couldn't expose civilians to a creature this powerful.

"No one will come to help you," the demon continued, glancing over his shoulder at the camera. "They won't think there's anything strange about me being here." He leaned over. "Open wide and say ah."

Dean shut his mouth and turned away, his chest heaving. Fingers as powerful as a vise closed around his chin. His head was forced around until he found himself facing the demon again. The fingers moved to the pressure points on either side of his jaw and his mouth popped open. The demon tipped up the flask and began to pour. Some of the liquid entered his mouth and trickled down his throat, choking him. Some ran down his chin and soaked through his t-shirt. For a panicked moment he felt as if he was drowning. He coughed trying to throw the liquid back up, but it was too late. His resistance waned and he could feel his muscles relaxing. His anger drained out of him as his senses became muddled.

"That's better." The demon stepped back. "There's someone waiting to see you." He reached down to Dean's wrist, unfastening the bracelet. "So, I'll just get rid of this."

"No," Dean slurred. All the feeling had left his body. All that was left was a hard knot of fear. With a final evil smile the demon moved out of his line of sight. Dean sensed the succubus before he saw her and his gut clenched.

"Play time," she said.

Tbc

Caroline

July 08


	9. Chapter 9

**Breakdown**

**Chapter 9**

"What happened to him?" Sam bent closer to check that Dean was still breathing. His brother was lying so still and quiet that it was hard to see the faint rise and fall of his chest. Sam felt as if his life was falling apart around him. First their father had disappeared then Jess was taken from him and now this. The call from the hospital to tell him that his brother's condition had deteriorated had shaken him so badly that he'd dented Dean's beloved car on the way over. He hadn't known how he was going to tell his brother. Now, he wasn't even sure he'd get the chance.

"We're not exactly sure," the doctor said without the abrasive edge to his voice he used during their first meeting.

"This is a hospital, for God's sake," Sam burst out. "You're meant to take care of people, not let them slip away without trying to help." He knew he was being unfair. Dean was hooked up to a monitor and they were feeding him oxygen through a nasal cannula.

"Calm down, son. We're running some blood tests and I've arranged for him to have a brain scan."

"What good will that do? Look at him! There has to be some way to wake him up." Sam ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "Did anyone come in here? You've been watching him through that damn camera. Someone must have seen something."

"Nothing unusual. You have to understand that he'd lost a lot of blood. It could have weakened his heart. Or, he could have had a stroke."

"No. No, I don't believe that. Something did this to him."

"You're overwrought. I can understand that this is a shock, but we're doing everything we can."

"Wait!" Sam lifted Dean's right arm. "Where's the bracelet? He wouldn't have taken it off." He dropped to his knees, searching under the bed. His hand brushed against the frame and he felt a fine powder resting on the iron. When he lifted his hand, he saw that his fingers were stained yellow. One sniff of the substance confirmed his worst fear. It was sulphur.

He knew now what must have happened. "Damn. Dean, no." He fumbled with the clasp on his own bracelet, his fingers shaking. As soon as it slipped free he fastened it around Dean's wrist. Immediately, there was a high-pitched scream. Sam looked up and found himself staring straight at an extremely pissed off succubus. Her face was contorted into a mask of pure rage, her red eyes blazing like the fires of hell and she had a mouthful of very sharp fangs. Sam hurriedly got to his feet and took a step back, colliding with the doctor.

"What is that?" The doctor's voice was no more than an appalled whisper.

Sam didn't have time to explain. Dean was safe for the moment. He and the doctor weren't and there was nothing to stop the succubus tearing from them apart. "Get out," he yelled.

The succubus was hovering over Dean, looking almost as if she was protecting him. Her claws were extended and she was beating her wings gently to hold herself in place. Sam braced himself for the attack. She hissed and launched herself toward him. He sidestepped, lifted the chair and slammed it into her. As a weapon it was pitifully inadequate so it came as a complete surprise when she disappeared. He swung round from side to side, wondering if she had just made herself invisible, but the air was still. He took several deep breaths to clear his head then realized that the doctor hadn't moved. Sam pushed him toward the door.

"I need salt," Sam told him. "A lot of salt."

"What?" Dr. McNeil's face was completely pale.

"I'll explain when you get back. Hurry."

It was a measure of the doctor's state of shock that he left the room without any further argument. Sam returned to the bed and straightened the chair and sat down. Dean hadn't moved and there had been no reaction to the removal of the succubus. It sickened Sam to think about that thing feeding on his brother while they stood around and did nothing. He could only pray that she hadn't drained Dean's life force to the point where recovery would be impossible.

"God, Dean, I'm sorry. I should never have left you here. I should have found a way to get you out." He leaned forward. "Come on, Bro, wake up. You can't leave me like this."

There was no reaction other than the slow rise and fall of Dean's chest. The minutes ticked by slowly as Sam kept vigil and waited for the doctor. Much to Sam's relief, McNeil was carrying a large tin of salt when he finally came back into the room. He had been afraid that the doctor would come back with Security or even the police. A little of the color had returned to the doctor's face and Sam waited for the inevitable barrage of questions.

"Am I going crazy?" the doctor asked.

"No crazier than I am."

"That's not much comfort."

Sam acknowledged that with a weak smile. "Give me the salt." He stood up and took the container.

"What are you going to do with it?" McNeil asked.

Sam crossed to the doorway and poured a line of salt across the entrance. A nurse walking along the hallway looked at him in surprise before hurrying past. "A line of salt stops supernatural creatures from entering a room," he explained. "I'm going to put a circle around the bed too, as extra protection."

"I can't believe I'm listening to this. You should be locked up next to your brother."

"You're listening to me because you saw the same thing I did." Sam checked the circle to make sure that there were no gaps in the line. "Whether you want to believe it or not, demons and monsters are real. What you saw was a succubus. They seduce men and use sex to drain the life force of their victims. Most men believe they are just having really intense dreams. Then they find they can't stop thinking about this perfect woman. They go from being tired to a state where they are too exhausted to get out of bed. Finally, they...die."

"Are you saying that's what's wrong with Dean?"

"It took me a while to put it all together. That bracelet I gave him kept the succubus away and it couldn't have removed it. So, that means it had help."

The doctor sank down into the chair. "How do you know these things?"

"I told you our mom died when Dean was four. She was murdered by a demon. Dad started hunting for the thing that killed her and dragged us along with him. Dean calls it the family business." Although Sam tried to keep his tone light he had a feeling that he was failing.

"This thing that was attacking Dean, is there a way to kill it?"

"I don't know. I've never run across one before. But, I know someone who might have the answer." Sam pulled out his cell, scrolling quickly through the numbers. He hit the call button.

"Hello." The man who answered sounded wary and not overly friendly.

"Bobby? It's Sam Winchester."

There was a long pause. "Sam? It's been a long time. Dean said you'd given up hunting."

"I had, but something happened. Listen, Bobby, I need to know how to kill a succubus."

"Are you alright?" Bobby asked, concern replacing his previous tone.

"Yeah, I'm fine. It's Dean. He..." Sam's voice cracked. "I'm afraid he isn't going to wake up."

"Damn it, Sam, I thought your daddy taught you two better than that. How the hell did a succubus get its claws into Dean? And, why didn't you stop it before it got this far?"

Bobby's angry words fuelled Sam's guilt. "It's a long story. Dean's protected now, but I need to know how to kill it."

"You're right about that. Once a succubus fixes on a victim it can track him anywhere. It won't stop until Dean's dead. There's only one way to kill it that I know of. It's vulnerable to pure silver when it's feeding and visible. But, I don't understand why you're asking me. John knows this as well as I do."

"He isn't here. He disappeared a couple of months back."

"Dead?" Bobby asked sharply.

"No, but for some reason he doesn't want us around. I've tried calling him." Sam could hear his own bitterness.

"Do you want me to come and help?"

"Thanks, Bobby, but you're too far away and we need to get back on the road. I'll call you. Thanks for your help."

"You take care."

"I will." Sam hung up and looked over at Dean. The only way to lure the succubus into appearing was to let it get at his brother again. That thought made him feel sick. He took a deep breath and turned to the doctor, who had been listening to his side of the conversation. "Dean isn't safe here. I need you to help me get him out." Sam walked back to the bed and began to unhook Dean from the monitor.

"I can't do that."

"You have to. If he stays here, I can't protect him and he'll die. We can make it look like I broke him out. There's no reason for anyone to know you helped us." Sam reached for the nasal cannula, hesitating only when McNeil took firm hold of his wrist.

The doctor's indecision was painful to see. "He needs medical care."

Sam felt a moment of uncertainty. What if his actions were condemning Dean to death? He shook his head. The only way to protect his brother was to get him out of the hospital. Even with that conviction, he couldn't stop his hands shaking as he disconnected the oxygen supply. "He needs rest. He'll either wake up or he won't. There's nothing you can do that will make any difference."

"Where will you take him?"

"It's better if you don't know. There's something else. I want the surveillance tapes and all Dean's things."

"You don't ask for much. Alright, let me think."

SSSSS

An hour later, Dean was lying on a moveable bed inside the tube that made up the main body of the MRI scanner. Sam watched through the window separating the control room from the machine. The Radiologist and Dr. McNeil were concentrating on the images showing up on the screen in front of them. It had been a plausible reason to move Dean from the psychiatric ward to the main part of the hospital and was a test that the doctor had already ordered. Dr. McNeil sent away the orderly who had wheeled Dean down to the radiology department and it was a simple matter for Sam, wearing a stolen uniform, to take the man's place.

"We've finished," Dr. McNeil said. "You can take him back to his room."

"Yes, Doctor." Sam opened the door separating the two rooms, aware that the doctor had engaged his colleague in a discussion of the results. He hurried over to the bed where Dean lay deathly still. He took hold of the bed, wheeled it out into the hallway and along to an empty room he had found earlier. As soon as the door closed behind them he set about moving Dean into a waiting wheelchair.

Although Dean was several inches shorter, Sam still struggled to move his brother. Years of training and hunting had given Dean a body that was solid muscle. He took a few moments to recover his breath and his composure. The secret of blending in was to look as if you belonged in your surroundings. Sam pushed the wheelchair out of the room and along the hallway to the elevator at a steady pace without giving the impression that he was hurrying. When they reached the first floor he headed toward the ambulance bay. No one questioned him or gave him more than a passing look. Once outside, he headed straight for the Impala.

He settled Dean as comfortably as possible in the passenger seat. He shrugged out of his uniform and stashed it in a nearby refuse bin. When he turned the key, the engine started with a familiar roar and Sam settled down to put as many miles as he could between them and the town of Branston.

Dean stayed where he had been put – slumped against the door. Sam drove until late into the night, glancing over to check on his silent brother every few minutes. Finally, his own exhaustion forced him to pull off the road and stop. He made a quick call to Bobby to ask if they could hole up at his place before closing his eyes. He said a quick prayer that the succubus wouldn't find them and try to invade his dreams, making a mental note to get another bracelet made as soon as possible.

When he opened his eyes again it was daylight. There was a pain in the left side of his neck from the uncomfortable position he had been lying in. He groaned and straightened up.

"Sam?"

It was no more than a whisper but it was the best thing Sam had heard in days. Dean's eyes were open, although they looked a little unfocussed.

"Where are we?" Dean asked.

Sam smiled in pure relief. "Safe."

"Okay." Dean's eyes closed again. "Wake me up when it's time for me to drive," he mumbled before falling back into a natural and healing sleep.

Tbc

Caroline

July 08


	10. Chapter 10

This is the final chapter and I hope you enjoy it. I have been overwhelmed by the support for this story and have had so much fun writing it. I need to thank my betas, Renegade (who introduced me to the wonderful world of Supernatural) & Linda.

**Breakdown**

**Chapter 10**

The first thing Dean noticed was that it was very quiet. Next was the gentle breeze caressing his back. He was almost sure that there was something strange about that. He snuggled deeper into the soft pillows, pushing the covers further down his body so that he could enjoy the cool air on his skin. He drifted happily for a while, his eyes tightly closed to hold off the moment when he knew he would have to wake up and face the day. Gradually, his thoughts began to pull him toward the surface and he reluctantly opened his eyes.

When he realized that he wasn't in a motel room, he slid his hand under the pillow searching for his knife. It wasn't there and that immediately kicked all his senses into action. He rolled over onto his back and sat up. The abrupt change of position made him feel sick and set his temples throbbing. Where the hell was he? Several deep breaths were required to quell the nausea before he could take a good look at his surroundings. He was in a bedroom which looked like it hadn't been painted since the sixties. The wallpaper looked like it was only hanging from sheer determination and the woodwork had certainly seen much better days. In addition to the bed there was a closet, a dresser and a table which sat under the window. Every available surface in the room was piled high with books. His anxiety levels returned to normal. He knew this room, but he couldn't find even the smallest memory of how he'd got here. In fact, there seemed to be a worrying number of gaps in his memory.

Clean clothes were draped over the back of a chair. He rubbed his hand over his jaw and concluded that he was badly in need of a shave. He sniffed cautiously. He definitely needed a shower as well. When he stood up he found that he wasn't very steady on his feet. In fact, he felt like he was just getting over a prolonged illness. He took his time walking to the bathroom and, when he arrived, went to look in the mirror. He was shocked when he saw his reflection. The thick, dark stubble made the rest of his face look ghostly pale. His eyes were bloodshot and the skin surrounding them looked bruised. He gripped the edge of the counter as he tried to remember what had happened to him. To his frustration, the explanation continued to elude him.

It took him much longer than usual to shower, shave and clean his teeth. He felt like he was moving in slow motion, but eventually he was finished and felt better than he had when he'd first woken up. He wrapped a towel around his hips and returned to the bedroom to dress. It was comforting being back at Bobby's. He and Sam had often stayed with the older hunter when their father was off on one of his extended hunting trips. It had always made a pleasant change from being abandoned in some rundown motel without enough money to buy decent food.

Food! Dean's stomach growled loudly. He finished dressing and headed for the stairs. He could hear voices now, coming from the room that Bobby used as his study. He lingered for a moment at the foot of the stairs, listening to Sam's low, intense, tones and Bobby's gruffer responses. This was the closest place to a home that Dean could remember, and he wanted to savour the moment in peace.

When he walked through the doorway, he thought he was putting up a pretty good show of being fit and healthy. He immediately sought out Sam to reassure himself that his brother was well. Sam looked up from his computer and his smile quickly changed into a look of concern. Okay, so maybe he hadn't done such a good job!

"Dean, you're awake. How do you feel?" Sam stood up and crossed the room. "You look pale. You should sit down."

"Hey, Dude," Dean protested. "I'm fine."

"It's good to see you, boy." Bobby closed the book he'd been reading and joined Sam. "But, your brother's right. You need to sit down."

"I need something to eat and for someone to tell me what's been going on." Dean sat in the nearest chair, trying to pretend that it had been his idea and not an absolute necessity.

"I'll see what I can find in the kitchen," Bobby said. "We can talk once you've eaten."

Sam had returned to his seat, but Dean could see the worry hovering behind his brother's carefully bland expression.

"How long have we been here?" Dean asked.

"A couple of days."

That jolted Dean. "And, how long have I been out of it?"

"A while. What do you remember?" Sam asked.

Dean leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling, trying to get a fix on his last clear memory. "We had a lead on Dad's whereabouts. There was a storm and...Nothing's very clear after that."

"That was a week ago. You were arrested and then committed to a psychiatric ward."

Dean sat up straight and stared at his brother. "Why?"

"Look at your wrists."

Time hung suspended while Dean looked in disbelief at the thin jagged scars on the inner side of each wrist. "I didn't...?" He couldn't quite manage to finish the question.

"Of course not. You were attacked by a succubus, but the authorities believed you'd tried to kill yourself."

"So they locked me up." Dean frowned as he tried to remember, but that only made his headache worse. "Did you kill the bitch?"

Sam looked away. "No."

"Then it's still out there." Dean turned the bracelet on his wrist until he could see the initials engraved onto the metal. "What happened to me, Sam?"

"Take a look at this. It might help you to remember something." Sam carried his computer over and set it down on Dean's lap. "This is a recording from the camera in your room at the hospital."

Dean stared at himself on the screen. It felt unreal, and yet, he couldn't deny that the events he was seeing had really happened. The picture was clear right up to the moment when he obviously reacted to someone entering the room. For the next few minutes the picture jumped as if the signal was being constantly interrupted. The images were fractured and unclear. When the picture eventually returned to normal, there was no one in the room and he was lying motionless on the bed.

"I've been trying to clean up the recording," Sam said as he lifted the computer and carried it back to the table. "Unfortunately, nothing's worked. Our best guess is that you had a visit from a demon."

"I thought you said we were dealing with a succubus?"

"We are, but it had help."

The smell of food momentarily distracted Dean.

Bobby came back into the room carrying a tray. "Move those books," he ordered.

Dean carefully removed the books from the table in front of him and stacked them on the floor. He closed his eyes and inhaled the aroma of the thick beef stew. "God, I'm hungry."

For the next ten minutes he shovelled food into his mouth and listened intently while Sam talked. When he was done, he sat back with a contented sigh. "So you think the succubus was part of some demon plot? Why?"

"I have no idea."

"Well, this is just great. The cops probably have warrants out on both of us. I have a succubus lusting after my awesome body and there's at least one demon on our trail. Hell, Sam, we're supposed to be hunting them, not the other way around."

"It's one bad-assed demon, too," Bobby said. "After Sam called me I did some checking and there were signs all over that town, starting with the storm that forced you to stop there. It's been years since I've seen so many demonic omens in one place."

"What do we do about it?" Dean asked.

"Beats me. The omens all disappeared as soon as you and Sam left. Whatever it was, it has gone to ground again."

"What about Dad?"

"Nothing." Sam's tone was resigned. "We're too late to follow up that lead we had, and I've no idea where he went after that."

"Maybe that's what the demon wanted. To stop us finding him."

"I don't know, Dean. I think it was something more personal. Are you sure you can't remember anything?"

"Sorry, Bro. All I'm getting are vague images. It's like trying to remember a nightmare after you wake up."

"Not a bad description," Bobby said. "When a succubus attacks it pulls you into its own level of reality. You feel like your whole life is a dream and it ain't easy to recall the specifics."

"How did you break me out of the hospital?"

"I had help. The succubus manifested in front of me and the doctor who was treating you. I managed to convince him that it wasn't safe for you to stay there. He gave me the opportunity to get you out without anyone being suspicious. I only hope that he doesn't get blamed."

"I'd be more worried about him freaking out. You did good, Sammy."

"Thanks."

"We still have a succubus to deal with," Bobby reminded them.

"I'll take care of that skank," Dean said. "And, believe me, it'll be my pleasure.

SSSSS

"Are you sure about this? We could wait a few more days," Sam said. "'Til you're stronger."

Dean could practically feel the anxiety flowing from his brother in waves. "We've wasted enough time." He tested the edge of the knife before sliding it under his pillow.

"She'll be wary at first," Bobby warned.

"Don't worry. I'll keep the bitch happy long enough to kill her."

"If she realizes what you're doing..." Bobby continued.

"She won't." Dean could feel his anticipation building. This was personal and he intended to enjoy himself. He looked at Sam and then at Bobby. "I know what I'm doing."

"Alright. We'll be outside in the hallway. If you need help you call us. Don't take any chances." Bobby crossed to the window and drew a line in the salt, breaking the protective barrier.

Dean locked eyes with his brother. "I'll be okay, Sam."

Sam didn't look convinced even though he nodded.

Dean recognized that agonised look and had the nasty feeling that Sam was working himself up to a chick flick moment. "Go," he growled, before his own emotions could betray him.

When the door closed behind Sam and Bobby, Dean sat down on the edge of the bed. He still wasn't feeling one hundred percent, although he would never admit that out loud. He reached under the pillow and gripped the handle of the silver knife. The thought of allowing the succubus to violate his body again wasn't a pleasant one, but it was the only way to keep her distracted. He let the knife go and removed his bracelet.

Nothing happened. He stood up and slowly turned around, checking every corner of the room. It was so quiet that he could hear the faint creak of the old floorboards in the hallway. Alright, so he would have to be patient. He sat down again to preserve his strength. He didn't mean to lie down, or to close his eyes. He didn't know that he'd fallen asleep until he woke to a gentle touch on his arm.

"Oh shit!" The words left his lips before he could stop them.

The succubus, who looked like a really hot biker chick, climbed onto the bed and straddled his hips. "I've missed you," she purred. "I'm glad you took off that nasty bracelet."

Dean forced himself not to flinch as she leaned over him and ran her tongue down his chest. When the hell had he taken his clothes off? "I missed you, too," he said. He caught his breath as her tongue moved lower. So much for her being wary of him!

She raised her head and looked at him with lust-filled eyes. "It was your brother's fault. He wants to keep us apart."

"He wasn't keen on the idea of having a demon in the family." His breath quickened as she started to do some very pleasurable things with her hands.

"I could kill him, except that I'm not allowed to hurt him."

The peeved tone dragged Dean back to the whole point of letting her get close to him again. "It sounds like you're taking orders from someone."

She began to nuzzle his neck, clearly too preoccupied to continue the conversation. Dean slowly moved his right arm. She was pressing him so hard into the bed that it was difficult to get his fingers between the mattress and the pillow.

"What are you doing?" the succubus asked.

"Nothing. Just getting comfortable." Dean reached for her, turning so that they were lying side by side. He was acutely aware of his erection and of the fact that his body wasn't paying any attention to his brain.

Feeling more than a little nauseous, he kissed her with as much passion as he could manage. It was obviously convincing as she began to moan and writhe in his arms. He disentangled his right hand and reached again for the knife. He slid it from its hiding place and brought his arm back to his side. His senses were spiraling out of control as she wove her dark magic around him. His body was aching for release, but he was just aware enough to know that giving in would kill him.

He gripped the knife and raised his arm. In one swift movement he plunged the blade into her back. She shrieked in agony and fury. When he tried to stab her again she wrenched the knife from his hand and flung it away.

The succubus returned to her true demonic form and slammed him back against the mattress. "You betrayed me," she hissed.

He struggled, even though he could feel himself growing weaker as her presence sucked the life from his body. Her claws were getting closer and closer to his eyes. He twisted his head to one side, catching his breath as she dragged her claws down his cheek. He barely had any strength left by the time he heard shouting and then the door banging against the wall.

Dean was hardly aware of Sam standing behind the demon, breathing fast and his eyes filled with anger. Then the knife in his brother's hand rose and fell – over and over. The air became filled with the smell of burning and sulphur. With a final agonized scream the succubus collapsed and lay still. Seconds later her body disappeared, leaving a scorch mark on the carpet.

"Are you alright?" Sam asked.

Dean didn't have the strength to respond. He felt a touch on his arm and flinched before realizing that it was Sam fastening the bracelet around his wrist again. He could hear Bobby and Sam talking, asking him questions. He tried to answer them, but couldn't seem to form the words. He closed his eyes and turned away. All he could think of was that the succubus was dead and that he would never have such an intense sexual experience again. And, for reasons that he couldn't even explain to himself, he felt regret.

SSSSS

"You're welcome to stay," Bobby said.

"Thanks, Bobby, but it's time we got back on the road." Sam looked over at his brother. Dean had been very quiet during the two days since they'd killed the succubus. "We've got a lot of ground to cover if we're going to find Dad."

Dean was running one hand over the smooth bodywork of the Impala. When he looked up his eyes were sparkling. "Come on, Sammy, we're wasting daylight. Keep in touch, Bobby." The door creaked when Dean opened it and he slid into the driver's seat.

"Dean looks happier."

Sam heard traces of doubt in Bobby's voice. He wasn't surprised, even if Dean was putting up a good show. His brother was still much weaker than he was admitting too, and had lost enough weight for it to be obvious. Trying to talk to his brother about it, though, was as much use as banging his head against a wall. "I think it helped when he found out that all the records of his arrest and committal had disappeared from the databases. Whatever demon was behind this has some heavy duty powers. And, he's back behind the wheel of his car with the open road calling to him. He'll be fine." Sam hoped that he sounded convincing enough. He certainly wanted to believe it. "Take care, Bobby, and thanks for all your help."

"No problem. Call me when you catch up with your father."

"We will."

Sam joined his brother in the car just as Dean cranked up the volume on the CD player. With the screech of tires and the sound of 'Hot Blooded' by Foreigner ringing in his ears, Sam settled down to enjoy the ride.

SSSSS

The demon looked down at the body of Dr. McNeil. It had been only a transient pleasure to kill the interfering doctor. It hadn't even come close to making up for the fact that Sam hadn't been put in the position of fighting to save his worthless brother. All that effort wasted. He kicked the lifeless lump of meat lying at his feet.

Sam was his favorite out of all his special children. He wanted Sam to survive what lay ahead of him. But, survival meant killing others like him, and so far Sam hadn't shown the right aptitude. It should have been impossible for Sam to rescue Dean without at least threatening violence. This should have been the first step in pushing Sam toward his destiny.

Time was running out. Soon Sam's powers would blossom and he would be led down the path that had been laid before him when he was only six months old. He had a long way still to go. The demon smiled, his yellow eyes gleaming in the dark. At least Sam had his brother to teach him. Ah, yes. Dean was definitely his greatest weapon. What a shame John Winchester didn't know how much his obsession was helping to bring about the day when a demon army would reclaim the world.

The End

Caroline

July 2008


End file.
